


The Space Where She Was

by AlexSimon



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Chic hairdresser Flora, Kid Fic, Lesbian Character, M/M, Montessori School, Vegetarians & Vegans, Widower Childermass, preschool teacher Segundus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSimon/pseuds/AlexSimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after the death of his wife, John Childermass is slowly entering the world again.<br/>When he goes to enroll his son in school, he finds himself unexpectedly drawn to someone new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hannah and Jennifer

He didn't mean to start crying. He hadn't thought he would. 

John Childermass had done a lot of it in the three years since his wife had died, sometimes for no reason, sometimes for many very good ones. There had been a woman's life to sort through, long nights alone with a toddler who didn't understand the new and sudden absence in the house. Childermass didn't feel ashamed that he had cried after his wife passed, but he had always, until now, cried when he was very much alone. Now, the man he had come to speak to about placing Sebastian in this school pushed a box of tissues across the desk toward him with a sympathetic frown. Childermass took one and wiped at his eyes quickly and balled the tissue up. 

"It's-" 

"No need to explain," said Honeyfoot. 

"I haven't really left him, not since his mother died." 

Honeyfoot paused. His grey eyebrows knotted together for a moment. 

"Not at all?" 

John Childermass shook his head. 

"I took time off after she- after Hannah died- and then when I went back, I started working from home." He balled up the tissue in his hand. "I mean, I've gone places. Just, always with Sebastian." 

"Oh, Mr Childermass," said Honeyfoot softly. "I do understand. It was a shock to lose your wife so suddenly, I'm sure. Being nervous is natural. Would you like to go peek in on Sebastian in the classroom, see how he's doing? It might make you feel better." 

Childermass straightened himself and nodded. 

They left the office together and went to the door of the room where he had dropped his son off earlier for a visit. 

Sebastian was in there now, sitting at a table with group of other children painting. A large tee shirt had been put on over his clothes and he held a paintbrush clutched in his left hand.  


A man was couched down at the other end of the table, looking at a painting a little girl showed him; a man with large eyes and dark hair, wearing a grubby, paint flecked apron tied around his middle. Sebastian said something to the teacher and the man looked up. Sebastian waved his painting at the teacher and he smiled a dimpled smile at it and whatever it was Sebastian has said. John Childermass felt a little better seeing how happy his son was and how kind the teacher. 

"He seems nice. The teacher." 

"Oh, Teacher John is very well liked by the children and their families," said Honeyfoot. "I couldn't do this without him. He's been a real godsend."

Teacher John. 

The children began to clean their paints and the teacher walked between them, wiping hands and listening to stories about their paintings as he hung them up.  


Childermass pushed from his mind the thought that at one time, he would have found someone like Teacher John very cute. 

"So is this...is this the Montessori stuff?" asked Childermass. 

"Oh no," said Honeyfoot. "This is just a bit of a break. They'll go back to the classroom after rest time this afternoon."

"And you speak French here?" 

"John does." 

Childermass nodded. He thought that if Hannah were here she would like this place. She'd like Honeyfoot and his obvious steadiness, she'd like watching her son paint, and she would like this teacher who smiled at him. Childermass watched Sebastian push up the rolled up sleeve of the tee shirt keeping his clothes clean and study the painting he had done. 

 

Segundus rubbed the paint off his hand with a tissue from his apron as he called the children to begin cleaning for lunch. He kept a careful eye on the boy visiting today, Sebastian, after what Honeyfoot had told him about him losing his mother shortly before he turned two. Sebastian was a kind and happy boy though, very interested in the other children. Segundus was not worried that if Sebastian came again that he would fit in. He talked to Segundus like he was much older than his nearly five years, which had first caught Segundus off guard and then made him smile. He read better than any other child in the class as well, and did well with the French that they spoke. 

When Segundus looked up at the window, he saw Honeyfoot and a man who looked just like Sebastian peeking in the room. And the man was crying. Or had been. He stared at his son moving among the other students and for a second, the two men met eyes through the window. Segundus smiled at him. The man blinked at him a few times and one side of his mouth twitched like he might want to smile back. Then, he nodded in a not unfriendly way and looked away. 

The door to the classroom opened and the man and Honeyfoot stepped inside. 

Sebastian looked up and when he saw his father, he left his picture and ran to him. "Well, did you have a good time, then?" 

"Yeah," said Sebastian. "Teacher John let us paint." 

Sebastian pulled his father to the table where he had left the picture he had done and began to chatter about it. 

Segundus watched the two of them, the way the boy's father kept a hand on his shoulder, where the end of his long hair fell. He was more sure than ever that the man, Sebastian's father, had been crying while he had been in the office with Honeyfoot. 

"Ready to go?" asked Sebastian's father. John. Segundus knew that he was John. He had been the one to take the first phone call from him last week when he called about bringing Sebastian here. He remembered the accent well and his name was easy to remember since it was his too. 

"Can I come back?" 

John Childermass took a breath looking down at his son and the painting he had had done. 

"That's the plan, Seb." 

 

They both turned around at the sound of the door to the school opening behind them as they made their way to the car.

"Teacher John!" said Sebastian. 

His son's happiness eased Childermass and at the same time, brought on another wave of sadness that Sebastian would not be with him every day. 

Segundus crossed the parking lot, squinting into the brightness of the afternoon, and walked up to them. 

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," he said. "I know you're on your way home. But..."

Segundus looked down at his feet.

"I'm glad you came today. And I'm glad Sebastian is coming back. I, uh, I really enjoyed meeting both of you."

He slipped his hand into the pocket of his apron and brought out a tissue that he handed to Childermass.

"I thought you might...It looked like you were a little upset."

Childermass took the tissue with a sigh. 

"Thanks," he said to the teacher. 

"See you again soon," Segundus said. 

Sebastian gave Segundus' legs a hug. Segundus told him, in French, that he had very much liked the painting he had done that morning. Childermass thought that if his son had to be with someone other than him every day that it might as well be this man. 

"See you soon," said Childermass.

 

It got a little easier, each day. 

The first day Childermass brought his son to school, he went back at 11:00 to get him because the worry had been too much. Sebastian hadn't liked that much. Childermass had felt bad then, when he arrived to see his son in the school's garden, crouched in the dirt next to to his teacher and putting fresh herbs into a basket. He had been smiling. 

Sebastian pouted on the way home and was out of sorts the rest of the afternoon. He had talked about the other children while they ate lunch and what he had done during the morning, but he seemed more focused on Teacher John than anything else. Childermass heard stories about him all afternoon and evening; the songs he knew, the things he said. 

The next day, Childermass had made himself stay away until 1:00. He paced the house for an hour before leaving though and the relief when he arrived and saw his son safe nearly knocked the breath from him. The group of children were asleep on cots on the floor, most of them anyway. Sebastian was awake and reading a book on his cot. 

"I'm going to miss the nature walk," Sebastian protested as he was put into his coat. 

"Nature?" Childermass raised his eyebrow at his son as he buttoned up his rain jacket. "What nature?" 

"We were going to go to the park."

Childermass looked up. John Segundus stood about a foot from them, holding a book in his hand.

"Oh," said Childermass. "That does sound nice. For the kids." 

"No worries. We'll go again." 

Segundus held out the book. It was something in French about an elephant. Sebastian hadn't read picture books for a while, thought his father, but Childermass could tell by how he looked at it that he had enjoyed it. 

"Sebastian seemed to like this. You can borrow it if you like."

Sebastian took the book with a grin.

"Thanks," said Childermass. He looked over at his son. "Shoes, Seb." 

Segundus stayed close, watching Sebastian put the book on the floor and sit down to put his shoes on. 

"John," he said. "I couldn't help but noticing when I looked at his paperwork that Sebastian's birthday is in a few weeks. I normally bake the kids a little treat, as long it's alright with their parents." 

"Really?" asked Sebastian. "Dad, is it alright?" 

"It's...of course." Things were moving very fast for Childermass, but he knew that should not affect his son. John Segundus did not know that Sebastian had never celebrated his birthday with anyone but but his parents, first two of them and then just his father. "That sounds great." 

Sebastian read the book he had borrowed from school on the way home. Throughout the afternoon, John Childermass was reminded from time to time of Teacher John's promise of a birthday treat. 

It got a little easier each day. 

Childermass knew his son was safe and happy and each day, when he came back for Sebastian, John Segundus was there. 

He didn't realize that they didn't have the toy until was too late and Sebastian was already crying. 

The elephant had only gotten a name last year when they read 'Matilda' together. Sebastian liked Miss Honey so much that he started calling his favorite toy by her first name; Jennifer. Seb had had it for years though, since his mother was alive. It had been, for that reason, hard for Childermass to look at and comforting at the same time. For Sebastian, it was his favorite toy, the one from the pictures with his mother. 

They arrived home from the first day that Childermass had been able to be away from his son for a full day of school; both of them tired. Childermass bent to take off his shoes. There was a moment of silence, of too much quiet from his son. When Childermass turned around, he knew that something was wrong. Sebastian didn't like crying and he seemed at first confused that he was as he stood in the middle of their living room looking around with his eyes slowly filling with tears. 

"Seb?" 

"Dad. She's not here." 

And then the crying started in earnest and Sebastian ran to the couch and buried his face in it. 

Childermass began a frantic search for the stuffed animal. It was not there; not in the car, not in the house anywhere. In the end, he could only pause to comfort his son and say that he would try his best to find where she had gone. After he had looked everywhere, Childermass sat next to his son on the couch, feeling just as defeated as Sebastian looked.

Sebastian crawled into his father's lap as his tears slowly began to slow and his breath became more even. Childermass thought of the one person who might be able to help. He reached for his phone in his pocket and he dialed John Segundus.

Childermass felt bad that Segundus answered. He should have been home already, Childermsss thought, but Segundus answered the school phone and quickly. All he said was hello and Childermass felt an unexpected wave of relief at his calm voice. 

"Did Seb have his elephant with him today?"

"Jennifer?" asked Segundus. 

Childermass was caught off guard that Segundus so readily knew the name and he paused. 

"Yeah. Jennifer."

"He did." 

"He can't find her now. Did he leave her there? It's only...his mother gave her to him and-" 

"I'll go look now." 

Childermass hardly had time to thank him before Segundus was gone.

 

Sebastian lay on the couch, calm now, but frowning as his father tried to get him interested in having something to eat. 

"Pizza?" asked Childemass. 

"I don't feel good, Dad. I'm not hungry." 

"Seb, love." 

Sebastian continued to frown and look uncommonly tired and sad and Childermass sighed before he leaned down and gave the top of his head a kiss. There was a knock at the door and Childermass stood to answer it. When Childermass opened the door, John Segundus was there, still in his school apron and holding the worn stuffed elephant. 

"John?" 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I found her and I thought..." 

Sebastian heard his teacher and jumped from the couch to run to him, stopping suddenly when he saw what Segundus held. He stared at it and then, he cried again. Childermass bent down and picked his son up and Sebastian buried his face in his shirt. 

Childermas took the elephant and motioned Segundus inside. 

"Long day," he said to Segundus. "Sebastian. Here you go. Look what John brought." 

Sebastian took the toy from his father and hugged it to his chest but didn't look up. Childermass and Segundus shifted their feet as seconds of quiet passed and Segundus lifted his hand to reach for the door knob. 

"I was just about to cook dinner," said Childermass. "if you wanted to..." 

Childermass stopped. Segundus was flushed from the bicycle ride over and as well seemed to have just realized that he still had on his apron and he began to blush a little, letting his hair fall in front of his face. 

"I mean, you came all the way over here. And you found Jennifer. It's the least I could do. We could do." 

At that, Sebastian lifted his head. 

"Teacher John is coming to dinner?" 

The two men looked at each other. 

"I would love to," said Segundus. "I mean, as long as it's not too much." 

"It's not," said Childermass. 

"Well. Thank you. I'll stay then. " 

Childermass put Sebastian down. The boy smiled up at Segundus and Segundus smiled back. 

"I..." Segundus reached behind him for the strings of his apron and pulled them loose. "I was so happy to find her that I rushed right over. I didn't even think to take this off." 

"I don't think I've ever seen you without the apron before," said Childermass as Segundus pulled the apron over his head and hung it on the hooks by the door where the coats were. 

Childermass wasn't sure why he had said that. Segundus, for his part, looked for a moment everywhere but at Childermass, and his blush spread initially before retreating back into the paleness of his skin as he took off his shoes. Childermass found himself watching Segundus for just a bit too long and nearly blushed himself. It had been so long since he had looked at anyone, really. He had forgotten what it was like, the vulnerability it could bring. 

They walked into the kitchen together. 

"I'm not going to be a good dinner guest, I think," said Segundus. Sebastian sat at the table with the elephant in his lap and Childermass began to open cabinets, looking for something to cook.

"Why is that?" 

"I'm a vegan." 

Childermass stopped his search and turned to Segundus. 

"Oh. No problem." 

"Really?" 

"What would you like? An omelette or something? That's easy." 

The blush returned. 

"No. No meat or eggs or dairy. It's a lot, I know. I understand. I can go home. Or-" 

"No," said Childermass. "It's fine. I just might need you and Seb to go to the store. Curry is okay? A veg one?" 

Childermass thought that Segundus seemed a little overwhelmed at the effort that was being put forth, but after a pause, he spoke. 

"Sure. That's great." 

The three sat down together and Segundus helped Childermass make a list of ingredients. Then, Segundus and Sebastian left for the corner store.  
It wasn't until they had been gone for nearly ten minutes that Childermass realized he had never let someone besides him take his son out of the house out before. 

 

She was pretty. 

She had been pretty. 

From the time he walked into the house to the time he and Sebastian left with the shopping list was only around fifteen minutes. It was enough to see the pictures though; the pictures of Sebastian's mother and John's wife placed around the living room. 

They had smiled a lot, the three of them, while they were the three of them. 

She, Hannah, had been a pretty woman; brown hair to her shoulders and blue eyes. 

The pictures of her in the house stopped suddenly when Sebastian was a small toddler with pink cheeks. Then, the few that had been taken since and displayed were just of him and his father. 

Sebastian carried the elephant with him while they walked through the grocery store and put the things they needed into a basket on Segundus' arm.  
Sebastian chattered as they walked through the store and people smiled at them as they went up and down the aisles.

Segundus wondered what they looked like to the other people, the two of them. He loved children but had never thought much of having his own. Something about the marked absence of Hannah in John and Sebastian's home had made him think for a moment of what it would be like to walk through a store with a son of his own, to have a husband waiting for him. For them. 

Segundus had insisted that Childermass did not have to pay for the groceries for a dinner that was being cooked only because he couldn't eat what they already had in the house, but when he and Sebastian got to the cashier, he retrieved the money that had been put into his hand before he left the house to buy them and that he had promised to use. 

After they arrived back to the house, Childermass cooked the dinner while Segundus and Sebastian played a game in the living room. 

"Now, this isn't going to be haute cuisine," said Childermass when they sat down at the table. "But I think it tastes alright." 

It did. Segundus said so a few times and then noticed he might be be over complimenting and stuck to eating. Luckily, Sebastian had a lot to say about a lot of things and talked a lot so that Segundus felt comfortable settling into quiet. In a pause, Childermass asked him about his work, how long he had been at the school. 

"A few years now. I like working with Honeyfoot a lot." 

"He's got a name like Miss Honey from Matilda. He's nice like she is too." 

"He is," said Segundus.

"It's nice to have good coworkers," said Childermass. "And bosses." 

"Dad's boss asks a lot of him," whispered Sebastian to Segundus. 

When dinner was over, Segundus offered to clean and then when he was told Childermass didn't need any help, he offered to leave and was told that he wasn't in the way. 

Sebastian halted any progress toward him actually leaving by asking for a story. 

Childermass stopped in the middle of putting a plate in the dishwasher. He and Segundus met eyes across the kitchen. 

"Please? You'e great at stories, Teacher John." 

"I wouldn't..."

"John wants to go home, Seb," said Childermass. 

"No. It's...I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome. Or intrude." 

Childermas finally remembered the plate in his hand and put it on the rack. 

"No. It's fine. If you want to." 

"Well. Um. Okay. Okay, Seb." 

Childermass stood up and shut the dishwasher door. 

"Go get changed then," he said. 

 

He was good at stories. Childermass stood in the door and watched Segundus pick up a chapter of the book they were reading together each night.  
He thought Seb would be too wound up to sleep, but he was out within a few pages, hugging his elephant to his chest. Segundus shut off the lamp and put the book on the bedside table. He stood up from the bed and walked to the door and Childermass closed it quietly behind him as they stepped out into the hallway. 

"Thank you for dinner," said Segundus. 

"Thank you for finding Jennifer. I was just as upset as Seb, I think." 

Childermass wasn't sure why he has said either. Now Segundus looked sad and he hadn't meant that.

"It's not a problem. I'll get out of your way now." 

"You're-" Childermass stopped. His hand was still on the door knob and he pulled it away and put it in his pocket. "You're really not in the way." 

"Oh, good." 

"Actually. There's...I opened a bottle of wine days ago and I only had a glass. Would you like to have one? Before you leave? It'll be nice to have adult conversation."

He was sure for a second that Segundus was going to say no. The pause after he asked was long. 

"I could, I think," said Segundus. "It's not late yet." 

 

After the second glass, Segundus wished he had gone home earlier. 

It wasn't John. John was lovely and listened to everything he said. But Segundus felt that at some point, he had started to speak too much. He started to talk about men, and about dating therm, and now he felt he was being a bore. But Childermass didn't stop him. And he didn't stop himself.

"It seems sometimes like..." 

He had been poured a third glass. Segundus looked up at picture of John and Sebastian and Hannah on the mantel, one when Sebastian had been only a baby in. He saw Hannah's smile first and then noticed John's. 

"It seems like all of this might be sort of out of reach for me. This family thing. This husband and kids thing." 

"Why?" asked Childermass. 

"I'm not always great. At dating. I'm a little shy." 

"I could tell," said Childermass. 

Now he was going to blush too, on top of it all. 

"Could you?" 

"Not that it's a bad thing," Childermass said quickly. 

Neither of them said anything after that 

"Is it..." Childermass looked down into his own glass, "something that you want? To get married? To be a father?" 

"I hadn't thought about it too much, I guess. Maybe because I didn't let myself. I don't know. Oh look, at me. I'm talking so much." 

"Don't worry. Like I said; adult conversation."

Childermass picked up his drink and took a sip. 

"It was nice," he said. "Someone there, you know." 

Segundus decided it was time to be quiet all ready. It was after midnight and he had made John sad. 

Childermass stood took the empty bottles and the glasses into his hands. Segundus reached for the arm of the couch to pull himself up and felt that he was watched. 

"Are you- Sorry, John. If you're drunk, you can-" he motioned to the couch with a glass. "You can stay." 

"Oh. I didn't think I'd had that much. I'm really embarrassed." 

Childermass shrugged. 

"Don't be. Let me put these away. I'll get you some blankets." 

Segundus was nearly asleep the time Childermass returned with a quilt and a pillow. He opened his eyes long enough to take them and to arrange himself on the couch. The next thing he knew, it was morning.


	2. Cool Flatmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are awkward and then awkward some more.

He was hungover. Segundus knew that much immediately when he opened his eyes in the morning. Hungover and sure to be very embarrassed one way or the other and very soon. 

He would have sneaked away to save himself being seen rumpled and red eyed, but he knew what that would do to Sebastian, who had been so happy to have him over the night before. He would have to stick out and say his goodbyes.

Segundus was alone in John and Sebastian's living room, still on the couch and covered by a soft quilt, the one John had brought him last night. It was already light and the bright sun in his eyes an indicator of a warm morning on its way to starting. 

Segundus turned onto his side and reached for his phone, which was still on the table where he had left it the night before when he and John had come to the couch with the glasses and the wine. He had missed several texts from Flora and Emma wondering where he was last night. He texted Flora back immediately that he was fine and that he would explain later and then lay his pounding head back down. 

There was a noise from the kitchen and Segundus thought that maybe he was not as alone as he had supposed at first. He pushed back the quilt.

"John?" 

"Yeah," said Childermass from the kitchen."Just me in here." 

Segundus sat up on the couch. His phone chimed again; Flora telling him how relieved she was to hear from him and that he should not expect to get away with keeping this story to himself.

"I have to go wake Seb," called Childermass, "but there's tea if you want it." 

Segundus walked into the kitchen where Childermass stood at the counter pouring himself a mug of tea. Childermass wore the same jeans as he had last night but had not put on a shirt before coming downstairs and Segundus was not sure where to look. He fixed his eyes at first on the window, the view of the sunny back garden, and then finally on the face of John Childermass. 

"Good morning," Segundus said. 

Childermass nodded, mumbled the same in the direction of his tea. It was too familiar, Segundus thought, with just the two of them here like this; too much like something it wasn't. Segundus let his eyes travel for a moment from Childermass' face to his neck and then his shoulder, where he was surprised but the sight of a somewhat faded tattoo of a bird. He found himself studying it; trying to discern what type of bird it was, wondering about the pattern of fading from shirt sleeves covering part of it over the years. 

"Help yourself," Childermas said. "There'll be breakfast shortly if you're interested."

"Oh, I'm not sure." 

Childermass took a sip of his tea. 

"I'll be back in a bit. Seb is sort of a pain to wake. So..."

"Help myself"?

"Help yourself." 

He walked past Segundus through the kitchen door and back up the stairs. Segundus hoped suddenly that he hadn't looked too much of a mess asleep on the couch when Childermass had walked through the living room. 

 

Segundus decided, after several seconds of standing and staring into the kitchen with nothing to do, that he would have tea, after all. John had not left a mug out for him, so he approached the cabinets wondering if was okay to open them and look for one. Segundus opened one door partially and peeked inside. He found the mugs there and opened the door the rest of the way to take one. John had left a few grains of sugar trailed on the counter from the dish to where his cup had sat. Segundus now knew something about John that he had not the night before; that he had sugar in his tea. It was a thought that struck him as frighteningly intimate. 

He poured his own tea and sat down at the table with it. Segundus managed a few sips before he heard feet on the stairs and the sound of Sebastian's voice the second before he appeared in the door.  
When he came into the kitchen and saw Segundus at the table, Sebastian stopped in the middle of a step and stared. 

"Teacher John?"

He wished he had taken some time and thought of how to explain his presence. Segundus knew that he could not tell a five year old, a five year old who was his student no less, that he had been too drunk to cycle home. Luckily, Childermass was quicker on his feet. 

"John was too tired to go home last night. Come on, let's get breakfast. We're running late."

Segundus stood up from the table with his tea cup, ready to make a retreat. He had only just opened his mouth when he heard John speak. 

"Want a ride?"

"What?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted a ride to work," said Childermass. He stuck a few pieces of toast in the toaster. "We're all going to the same place." 

"My bike..."

"Hey Dad," said Sebastian. "We could take your bike. We can all ride together." 

The men were quiet. Segundus felt he should say no, but found himself looking down into his tea. He jumped when the toast popped up and the noise interrupted the quiet that had settled over the kitchen. 

"I guess it's a nice morning for it," said Childermass. He handed his son a plate with a piece of toast on it.

"It is! And you haven't used your bike in ages."

Sebastian looked between his father and Segundus. Segundus took a step back toward the table and looked up at Childermass. 

"It's fine with me. I'm actually a little hungry, if it's still aright if I stay for breakfast." 

"It is," said Childermass. 

It was only plain toast and fruit and a glass of black tea, but Segundus' head felt better by the time he accepted an invitation to tidy himself up for work in the downstairs bathroom. 

He splashed water on his face and ran his wet hands through his hair. There was a knock on the door. 

"Spare toothbrush, if you need," said Childermass from the other side. 

Segundus cracked open the door and took the toothbrush, trying not to look at John too much as he did. 

Soon, the three were outside, Segundus on his bike and Sebastian riding in a seat on the back of the one he rode. 

They arrived at school at the same time as Honeyfoot's car pulled into the lot. He greeted them all and as Childermass took Sebastian from his seat on the bike, Honeyfoot gave Segundus a long, curious look. 

 

Segundus was prepared for the talk. 

He sat alone at the table in the over warm kitchen with a bowl of the leftover student lunch and when Honeyfoot came in and closed the door behind him, he was not surprised. Honeyfoot sat down next to him. 

"Are you alright, John?" 

Segundus nodded. He was tired and the warmth of the room made him more so, but he was fine except for the worry that would not leave him. 

"A bit embarrassed to be honest. I look a mess."

"Will you tell me what happened?"

Honeyfoot had always been easy to talk to and Segundus knew that he faced no judgement, so he told everything, what confusing little there was of it. 

"It was kind of you to help them like that," said Honeyfoot. "I think that family needs it. It's good for Mr Childermass to know his son is cared for by people who love him." 

"But?" 

As Honeyfoot stood, he gave Segundus' shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

"No but, John. I trust you." 

 

There was no one home when Segundus arrived to his flat the in the evening. His splitting headache and the embarrassment of being on the receiving end of a few raised eyebrows from his coworkers about wearing the same clothes as yesterday had led to him leaving work unusually early, right after the last child was picked up by their parents.

After making a cup of tea and halfheartedly watching a bit of television, Segundus took the opportunity to shower and change his clothes. It was still a sunny day, and warm, and Segundus opened the windows once he was dressed again and lay on the couch, his wet hair drying spread behind him. 

Flora texted him when she was on her way home. 

"Be prepared to tell me everything," she wrote. "You don't get away with not coming home and leaving us in the dark."

Segundus groaned and decided to start dinner. Emma was rarely home early enough to eat with them and Flora often went out with her coworkers from the salon after she finished work, but when she was home, or if all three of them were, Segundus enjoyed cooking for them.

When Flora came in, it was with a bottle of wine. 

"No," he said. He waved his hand at the wine. "I really can't. Not two nights in a row." 

Flora raised an eyebrow at 'two nights in a row'. 

"Fine, don't drink, but I want to know where you were last night. It is not like John Segundus to not come home. Or to have a hangover." 

Segundus stirred the vegetable stir fry on the stove while Flora opened the wine. From the corner of his eye, he saw her go to the the place where the glasses were kept. 

"There's nothing to tell," said Segundus. 

"John. Come on." 

"There's not. I had dinner with one of my student's family." 

"And I know which one; the student whose dad is tall, dark and Yorkshire." 

Segundus switched off the stove burner and removed the pan. He did not look at Flora.

"Yes." 

"I knew it!" 

When Segundus turned around, he saw an extra glass of wine sitting in front of Flora, already poured. She pushed a strand of her bobbed, purple hair behind her ear and then pushed the glass toward him. 

"I changed my mind. You're having a drink. You may like to act like an old maid sometimes, but thank god you have cool flatmates." 

Segundus could not muster up the energy to protest. He retrieved two plates from the cabinet and portioned out a serving of rice for Flora and himself. He brought them to the table and sat across from her. 

"So?" she asked. 

"So?" he repeated. 

Segundus looked down at his plate. 

"There was...a crisis. A minor crisis. I was invited to dinner after it was over and John and I chatted for a bit once Seb had gone to sleep for the night. I made a fool of myself and had a glass too many of wine and couldn't cycle home. I stayed on their couch."

"Huh. So he's John now?" 

Segundus pushed his food around on his plate and felt his cheeks growing warm. 

"He's always been John. Hasn't he?"

She lifted a finger from the stem of her wine glass; the one with the four letters of her fiance's name tattooed around it; Emma. 

"No," said Flora. "No, he was Sebastian's dad. You were always very careful to call him Sebastian's dad. A bit too careful." 

Segundus became so flustered that he reached for wine and took a much larger sip than he had intended. It was admittedly refreshing. He felt, if he could admit it, better than he had all day. 

"So?" asked Segundus. "I stayed on the couch. The most action I saw was when John and I reached for the curry at the same time."

"Are you going to tell me you don't have a crush?" 

"Flora, come on. Even if I did, what would it matter?" 

"Why shouldn't it?' 

Segundus sighed. He thought if he took another large sip of wine that he might be up for this conversation and taking some advice from Flora, so he did, leaving only a puddle in the bottom. 

"You know how it is. I don't even know if he likes men." 

Flora smiled. 

"You don't know that he doesn't. You don't know until you ask. Or snog him." 

Segundus picked back up his wine and swirled around the bit left at the bottom. 

"I know," he said quietly. "I just...what if I make things harder on him? On Sebastian? Things have been so rough for them." 

"You?" asked Flora. "Making things harder isn't what you do." 

She refilled his wine glass and reached over to pat his hand. 

"Tell me all about it," she said. 

 

John Childermass knew what is was that led him to the box of Hannah's things that night. 

It was John Segundus asleep on the couch. It was his apron hung by the front door, the cupboard that now held what was left of the ingredients that had been used to cook him dinner. It was that as Segundus fell asleep seconds after the pillow was handed to him that he'd stood for a moment after Segundus' eyes close, before he walked away, and watched him. 

Childermass had not gotten rid of many things at all after Hannah's death, but this box was the one that held the most special things: her passport with the stamps from their honeymoon, her wedding and engagement rings, her journal. 

He didn't really wonder at all what she would say about the way he looked at Segundus, the flutter of nerves he'd had watching him look down into a glass of wine while he talked. She would tell him it had been long enough. She'd tell him it had been too long. She'd tell him that Segundus was good with Sebastian and that Sebastian adored him. She'd tell him they deserved to be happy, her boys. 

Childermass took the engagement ring from the box and held it between two fingers. It had seemed so extravagant when he'd picked it out, when he'd been saving for it the months before that. It had caused him a lot of worry sitting in one box before he asked Hannah to marry him and now it sat here, in another box where he could remember her wearing it when he needed to. remember being younger and happier an in a love that was uncomplicated by too much life and sadness. Childermass put it back in the box and put the box away in the drawer where he kept it. 

Childermass hadn't slept well since Hannah died, but was surprised to find that tonight, he lay down, settled quickly, and was woken by the sun in his eyes many hours later. He felt very well; much less tired than he was used to feeling since he'd been going things alone. There was, inside of him, an unnerving tickle of happiness. 

He pulled on his trousers and went downstairs. 

 

Segundus called his name from the living room and he paused in the middle of getting a cup from the cabinet. 

Dinner and now breakfast. The maneuvering of these things was something he'd happily forgotten years ago, once he and Hannah were settled. He was too old for starting over with stumbling through nights and mornings and cups of tea to someone waking up in his home, he felt; too sad and busy and tired. He knew that, but he also knew what the sound of that voice did to him. Childermass took a deep breath. 

"Yeah. Just me in here." 

Segundus appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. There was a small crease across one side of his face from sleeping hard on that side. 

Childermass turned back to his tea. 

You are not ready, he thought. 

He stirred in a spoonful of sugar. 

But you never really will be.

When Childermass picked up Sebastian from school that day, Segundus came over to him, like he always did, to chat about Sebastian's day. Childermass had managed to forget from time to time during the day that he would have to see Segundus again and very soon. Whenever he remembered, he began to think a little too much of how he thought he should act when he saw him. He'd tried to think on the way over of what he might say, but everything was wrong. 

When he came into the classroom, Sebastian ran to him. Childermass saw John watch Sebastian approach him. He knelt on the floor with another student, a boy, who traced into a tray of sand letters with his fingers. John gave the boy a gentle pat on the shoulder and stood to walk over to them. Childermass busied himself getting Sebastian into his shoes. 

"I took a picture of Sebastian in the garden today," said Segundus when he got to them. He reached for his phone and pulled up the picture of Sebastian standing in the sunlight. "I can send it to you, if you want." 

"Sure," said Childermass. "Thanks." 

Sebastian pulled on Segundus' apron.

"Will you come for dinner again?"

"I'm- well-" 

"Wouldn't be a bad idea," mumbled Childermass. He looked quickly away when he felt Segundus' eyes move back toward him. "I normally don't eat that many vegetables in a month." 

"Oh. I guess..."

Childermass' phone chimed. 

"Thanks for the picture, John." Childermass turned to his son. "Do you have Jennifer today?" 

Sebastian nodded. Childermass knew Segundus would walk away soon. He still hadn't decided what he wanted to say, but he felt it should be something. 

"You were a lifesaver last night, John." 

"Anytime," said Segundus. "Really." 

"I'm glad we- I decided to bring Seb here."

The use of the wrong pronoun stopped them both. 

"Me too," said Segundus eventually. 

"Well. Monday then. Say bye to John, Seb." 

Segundus drifted away to another family when Sebastian had said goodbye. Childermass looked down at his phone, the notice of the text from Segundus still bright on the screen. 

 

It was Sebastian that made him send the text in the end; his request for his father to made what they had eaten with Teacher John again tonight, the way he remembered the voices John had used to him a story last night. 

John Childermass figured that if there was a small chance of his son, of the both of them, being happy that he owed them try. 

It took him thirty minutes to get as request for coffee to sound right. It took another ten for him to send it. 

 

Segundus had fallen asleep cutting felt figures for a story board but woke when he heard his phone chime. He saw the name and at first, thought it was a response to the picture of Sebastian he'd sent in the afternoon. 

Then he read it. 

"Flora! Emma! Get in here." 

He stared at the phone until Emma opened the door and put her head into the room. 

"What?" 

"I think I might I have been asked out."


	3. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men named John go on their first date.

He said yes. 

Before Flora came to the door and stood behind her fiancé, Segundus had sent a text back to John saying that he would meet him for coffee Sunday afternoon. It only hit him after that he might have responded too quickly, but it was done and he was going to coffee with John. 

“Who’s asked you out?” asked Flora. She wrapped a tattooed arm around Emma’s waist and rested her chin on her shoulder. “Tall, dark, and Yorkshire?” 

Still staring down at his phone, Segundus nodded. The words of John’s text played themselves out again in front of his vision like he could still see them, though the screen of his phone was black now.

“Oh look, Emma, he's blushing. Come on, John, show us already.” 

Segundus pushed away the felt figures he'd been cutting out when he fell asleep to make room on the bed for his flatmates. Flora and Emma came and sat next to him and Segundus handed the phone to Emma. 

“I have been asked out, haven't I?” 

Emma read the text and showed the phone to Flora. 

“Looks that way. Well done.”

“You must have made quite the impression last night,” said Flora. 

“I ate curry and then got drunk and fell asleep.” 

“Tall, dark and Yorkshire is easily impressed then.”

Flora handed the phone back and Segundus grinned. 

“His name is John.”

 

John said yes. 

Childermass was surprised at how quickly he got notice of a response to the text he had sent asking John if he wanted to have coffee Sunday afternoon. All that time wondering what to say and not even a minute for a reply. For a moment, Childermass wondered if he'd been rejected and he frowned at the screen as a bit of worry sparked.

Then he read the words that appeared under John’s name.

“I'd love to.”

The feeling was rusty. The smile, the relief that someone he liked might like him back. He had forgotten how the warmth of it spread it through him, the cheerful pounding of his heart.

Childermass rubbed his eyes. It was done and he was tired and ready to go to bed. He did not look forward to figuring out how a single father went about dating, but he found himself reading Segundus’ response again with a welcome feeling of lightness after he lay down.

He'd love to.

Childermass fell asleep wondering how he would tell his son what was happening. Luckily, he knew it was news that would make Sebastian happy. He was jolted back fully awake from a near doze by the worry of who would watch Sebastian when he went out. If he were going anywhere else, he'd ask John, but that wasn't possible since he had asked the person he was most comfortable leaving his son with. Childermass assured himself that tomorrow would be plenty of time to figure that out. 

It had been a phone call, the last time he had done this; a phone call to Hannah’s flat while he sat on his bed in a room blocks away. He had been hardly twenty then, no gray starting to show in his beard, with a tiny room at the top of the stairs in a house shared by a group of students. It had been a very similar feeling though, despite the years that had passed since. Childermass had spent that night laying in a very small bed with his head against a thin pillow thinking of the exactly way Hannah’s yes sounded when he’d asked her if she’d get a drink with him. 

Now, it was a short sentence, one written out and alive on a screen. He lay in a much larger, much more empty bed. 

I’d love to. 

 

Sunday morning, Segundus was up early, trying to be quiet so that he didn't wake Flora and Emma. He stayed in his bed for a while after waking, the covers pulled tight against a spring morning that had turned cold, trying not to think too much about the meeting with John.

It was only coffee, Segundus told himself when he started feeling the nerves and excitement that thinking of the afternoon brought on. Only a cup of coffee or two, maybe.

He realized as he started the tea however, opening cabinets slowly and shutting them with care, that his flatmates were already awake. 

Flora opened the door to their room. Her purple hair was tied back from her head with a flowered scarf and she wore a tee shirt that showed the tattoos on her calves and forearms.

“You've got one hour,” she said. “Then, I'm getting you ready.”

“Okay…” Segundus said. He got his mug down from the cabinet. 

“Fair warning, you’re getting a haircut if I have any say in it. You didn't cut it all winter and you look like you're in a sad boy band.” 

“That bad huh?”

“Sad boy band works for you surprisingly well,” said Flora. “But this is a big date.”

“Don't make him nervous!” called Emma from their bedroom.

Segundus had his tea and breakfast while Flora, with his permission, went through his closet to choose something for him to wear. 

What she chose was a green tee shirt he had forgotten he even had, one with the logo of some summer camp he'd worked at years ago. It was soft and the logo a bit worn away, something he might normally wear around the house when he wasn't going out.

“Trust me,” she said. “This color is going to be amazing on you.” 

“Have you ever even seen me in that shirt?” 

“I don't have to, John!”

After his shower, Flora sat Segundus in one of the kitchen chairs and brushed his hair back from his face. She had brought out her work scissors and combs and they sat on the table next to her. Emma sat on the couch, watching.

“Are you opposed to a big change?” Flora asked. 

“I want to look nice. Do what you think is best.” 

“Good choice.” 

She began to cut. The hair piled on the floor, drifting down in dark chunks. There was no mirror, but Segundus watched Emma’s face and she smiled at him as the new haircut began to take shape.

“Oh, it's nice, John!”

“Nice?” 

“Your cheekbones look just lovely and your eyes are about twice as big with short hair.” 

“Is that good?” 

“Very.”

When he finally got the mirror, Segundus was shocked at how different he looked with this much less hair. He ran his fingers through the new short hair, tried to see what Emma saw. 

He couldn’t quite decide after several minutes what he felt about it, but thought it was adult haircut, one that he likely needed. 

 

Sebastian’s only concern when told that his father and teacher were going for coffee was that he get to choose his father’s clothes. 

“You don't have any...questions?” asked Childermass. Childermass had taken them  
to Sebastian's favorite Japanese restaurant to have the conversation and Sebastian seemed much more focused on his dinner than he was in discussing the date. 

Sebastian shook his head. He watched the plates of food going around the conveyor belt.

“And you understand? That I like John in the same way I liked your mum?” 

“Dad,” said Sebastian. “I get it. Teacher John is nice.” 

Childermass agreed to to his son picking out his clothes and Sebastian came into his room at sunrise on Sunday ready to dress him. He stood beside the bed holding his elephant in one hand and using the other to push his father’s shoulder until he was awake.

“Son, “ said Childermass, “it's quarter to six. Wouldn't you like to sleep for a bit longer?”

He covered his eyes with his arm. Sebastian shook his father’s shoulder again and Childermass sat up. 

“Alright, alright. But breakfast now, and tea. It's too early to get dressed.”

Sebastian ate quickly and dragged Childermass back upstairs to his room .  
Childermass sat on the bed while his son peered up at the clothes hung in the closet. His face in the moment remind Childermass very much of Hannah when she had been thinking seriously.

“Buttons,” said Sebastian with an amount of obvious consideration. “A shirt with buttons.” 

It was a grey and blue one he chose, and a pair of blue jeans. Childermass upheld his part of the deal and wore what picked for him and thought it was a very good outfit after all.

“So, Seb, I look nice?” 

“Yeah, Dad. You look good. But it got cold again. You need to put on your awesome jacket.” 

The jacket in question was an old and much battered leather jacket bought when Childermass was years younger. Sebastian had always liked it. Childermass thought he might be too old to wear something like that now, but it didn't look as out of place as he had been expecting. 

When Childermass looked in the mirror after putting on the clothes Sebastian had picked out, he was unsure how to feel. He was so much older than the last time he'd done something like this; he thought he could see years of pain worked into his face and he wondered what he was doing asking out someone as kind as John Segundus and bringing that pain to his gentle world. But Childermass couldn't help but smile at Sebastian’s smile and let himself begin to allow in a little hope. 

At 12:00, the young woman Segundus had recommended to watch Sebastian for the afternoon came over to have lunch with them while Childermass got used to the idea of leaving his son with someone new.

She was nice, Cynthia, and Sebastian took to her quickly as they made sandwiches together. Childermass had always known though that this would be harder on him than his son. 

Childermass sat at the table and watched Sebastian and Cynthia at the counter, putting slices of cheese on the bread and talking as they slices off crusts and quartered the sandwiches. This was good for Seb, he thought. He wished he had been able to do it sooner, but it even this small letting go tore at him. He was quiet while they ate and let his son talk to the new babysitter and listened to them plan the afternoon. 

At 1:00, he left them playing in the small back garden and drove to pick up Segundus. 

 

Segundus waved when he saw the car approach. 

He had to admit that Flora had done well getting him ready. He felt that the shirt had been a good choice, especially with the jacket she’d paired it with. 

Segundus said hello as he took his seat. The car bore obvious signs of Sebastian in it; from his car seat and the toys and crayons in the back, crayons that filled the car with a smell that reminded him of work.

Segundus turned to fasten the safety belt and the car was much quieter than he had thought it would be or should be. John had said hello back and then nothing else and the click of the belt was jarring. When he turned again, John was watching him. He looked away quickly when Segundus saw him .

“You, uh, changed your hair.” 

“Oh. Uh. Yeah? My flatmate is a hairdresser. One of them. I'm just lucky it's not purple like hers.”

“It's nice.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Very nice.”

Segundus wasn't sure what to say after that. A compliment from Emma was different entirely than one from John, and John sitting on inches away. Segundus shifted a bit in his seat and looked ahead as the car pulled away.

“How's Sebastian?” Segundus asked. 

“Glad for an afternoon away from old dad, I think. He likes Cynthia. Had her playing some pirate game when I left.” 

“Oh yes, that's very big at school right now.” 

For a moment, the only sound in the car was the sound of the blinker and then nothing. 

“I’m a bit of a wreck, to be honest,” said Childermass. “I’d just gotten used to leaving him with you at school and now…” 

“Are you ready?

“No. No. But Seb is. He has been.” 

Childermass reached down to the seat next to him, where Segundus saw a pack of cigarettes sitting.

“You don't mind if I smoke, do you? I never do around Seb and I've cut down a lot, but sometimes when I'm stressed I really need one.”

“No, I don't mind.”

Childermass sighed down at the pack and left it where is was in the end

“Maybe later. I always tell myself that I shouldn’t, you know.”

They let themselves chat about Sebastian while Childermass drove to the coffee shop. After John parked, they walked the few blocks to the shop and Segundus told John and Flora and Emma. 

The first surprise of the afternoon came when they arrived and found that the coffee shop had closed for the day. 

 

Childermass found that it was hard not watch John’s face, just to enjoy the differences in it now that John wasn’t hiding behind his hair. 

Did he look older or younger? Childermass couldn’t tell. When Segundus turned one way, he thought he looked more mature than he had before. Turned another, with his eyes looking up while he listened to something he said, Childermass thought he looked young. 

He also looked very nice in green. 

God knows why, since he was not good company, but John Segundus smiled at him and then looked out the window. 

Younger, Childermass thought. He looks younger, with his eyes big like that. But then, when he spoke and turned his face to him again, his cheekbones showed themselves in a new way and once again, Childermass could not decide. 

How old was John? Another look over at him reminded Childermass that he wasn't entirely sure. He would have to ask today. 

It was a good look, anyway. 

 

They wandered the neighborhood where the coffee shop was looking for somewhere else to go. It wasn't long until they found a pub and decided on that. Childermass held open the door and followed Segundus inside The pub was half full of families at lunches and there was a group of loud young people laughing, spread out over three tables in the corner. John and John stood looking around and each took a step toward the bar and then stopped and looked at each other. 

“What do you want to drink?” Childermass asked. 

“Oh, you don't have to buy.” 

“No, it's fine. Really...we could I don't know, do rounds if you like but-”

“Sure,” said Segundus quickly. “Sure. That sounds perfect. I'll have a gin and tonic, I guess. Thanks.”

Childermass went to get the drinks while Segundus found a table away crowds. 

“I hope I'm not bungling things too badly,” he said when he sat the drinks down. “I've been out of the game for a while. And I don't…” 

Childermass took his seat and picked up his beer. Now that he had, he felt he should take a drink, so he did. It gave him time to think of what he wanted to say next. 

“Never been out with too many men,” he finished. 

“I understand,” said Segundus. He swirled his drink with the little straw that had been put in it and Childermass watched the ice cubes turn for a moment. 

“Hannah was a good portion of my experience, to tell the truth.”

“Oh?” 

Childermass picked up the glass again like he might take another drink, but it was a nervous movement and he barely lifted it off the table before he set it back down. What was he supposed to do with his hands now? It had been years since he had been out alone with another adult and he had somehow forgotten where he ought to set his hands now that they weren’t holding the beer. He decided on one on either side of the glass. 

“Met when we were kids," Childermass said. "Caught back up in uni, married the year after we finished. I can hardly remember not knowing her, really.” 

“That's very sweet.”

He wondered for a second if Segundus was going to put a hand on his, but he didn't. Segundus reached up to where recently his hair would have been for him to fidget with and lowered his hand when his brushed on his neck. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Segundus said. The ice clinked again as it swirled in the glass. “I’m not sure if it’s okay my asking this, but…”

The table got quiet. At the other end of the pub, one of the group of young people laughed loudly and the others followed.

“How did she die?” Childermass stared down into his beer and he clutched it again as the memories became sharp. The glass was cold against his fingers and palms. “A stroke. She was out on a walk with Seb, fell down on the sidewalk. Someone saw her, rushed over and called an ambulance, but...”

“I'm so sorry, John. You don't have to say any more. How terrible.”

Childermas felt the start of tears again and looked away. 

“It was.”

Childermass wondered if the afternoon was ruined now, when it had just started, but when he looked up, there no discomfort apparent in Segundus, just a soft turning down of his mouth and look in his eyes like he might cry as well. If anything, knowing he had made this nice man nearly cry half an hour into a date was worse.

“Sorry,” Childermass mumbled. 

“Whatever for?” 

“That was very bad small talk. I've upset us both.”

“Well, I did ask. It was my fault. I really want to get to know you and Sebastian better. Hannah is a big part of that.” 

Childermass nodded.

“But maybe we can take all that slowly,” said Segundus. He let the end of his last word trail up in a question as he stopped his nervous motion with the straw and Childermass nodded.

Segundus was halfway through his drink and the ice had begun to melt. Childermass watched it for a moment as it slowed and stopped its swirling motion and followed the line of the straw up to Segundus’ long fingers that held it. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Slowly.”

Under the table, Segundus’ foot brushed his and he pulled back with a half grin of apology and quick lifting of his straw to his lips. 

 

The afternoon didn't warm much, but it was still light as they walked through park after finishing a few rounds of drinks. The cooler weather and the cover of clouds that thickened during the afternoon had kept most other people from being outdoors and it felt like they had the park to themselves as they walked. 

Segundus felt the last round they’d had in the pub settling happily in him. He thought he wanted to take John’s hand. Or the drinks made him think he could, but John was quiet. Not an unhappy quiet, but one that felt fragile between them. 

“You know,” Segundus said, “I don't think you've ever mentioned what it is that you do.”

“Have I not?”

“Not even a hint.”

“I'm an editor. An editor and sort of de facto jack of all trades for a writer. A writer who needs quite a lot, actually.”

“Anyone I've heard of?” asked Segundus. 

“It would be hard not to. He wrote a pretty big book a few years ago. A historical thing. Some of his old colleagues thought he jumped the gun on using work they'd been doing to finish it. It was sort of a mess.”

Segundus stopped and stared at Childermass. 

“You work for Gilbert Norrell?” 

“I do.”

“What's he like? Like they say in the news?”

He grinned. It was small one, but John Childermass grinned. 

“Exactly like that. But there's...more to him.”

“I'll have to try not to ask you a million questions. Your job is certainly more interesting than mine.”

Childermass shrugged. 

“Norrell pays well and he trusts me to do what I need to for him without bothering me too much about it most of the time. It lets me care of Seb.” 

“Well, that’s very important.” 

“I haven’t thought of much else for the last two years or so.” 

John Segundus thought that now was one of the times quiet would be good so they walked without speaking for a few minutes. The wind picked up for a moment, blowing sideways a few of the flowers that had come out early. 

“How old are you?” asked Childermass suddenly 

Segundus had been watching the sky and enjoying the the alternating pattern of the darker and lighter clouds and had not been looking at Childermass, but he turned quickly at the question. 

“Sorry?” 

“I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” said Childermass. “I really didn’t. You haven’t mentioned yet and I just couldn’t tell.” 

“Oh. Could you not?

“No. Not at all.” 

“I’m thirty five,” said Segundus. 

Childermass thought over the number for a moment. 

“I’m forty five. You’re not bothered by that, are you?” 

“Not especially.” 

“Have you dated older men before? Can I ask?”

“I’ve had four boyfriends, serious ones, and they’ve all been closer to my age, but...I like that you know things I don’t, have done things I haven’t. Ten years worth.” 

“Well, you know things I don’t.” 

There could not have been a better time for it, Segundus thought, for reaching for John’s arm in a way that made him turn around. There wasn’t a better time for seeing what happened when he moved closer. John stared; he stared down at his hand on his arm, and then at his face when he got closer. But he didn’t move away. Segundus wrapped his arms around John’s neck and stretched until their mouths met. With their chests pressed together, Segundus felt John’s heart thud against him. 

It took a moment, but John’s mouth opened slightly to accept the kiss, to accept him. One of John’s hands held him at the small of his back and as the kiss went on, as John kissed him back, he felt for a moment fingertips against his skin as John griped the shirt in his hand tightly and part of it rode up.

The breeze was cold on the back of his neck. John tasted of beer in a way that made him not want to stop kissing him, but he did. 

Segundus stood flat on his feet again, looking up at John. 

 

John Childermass had just been kissed by a thirty five year old man in a green shirt, been kissed in a park He had been kissed by a man with a new haircut that he’d gotten just this morning. 

John had soft hands that had just moments ago held the back of his neck. It was a part of his body he never thought of at all, but he did now. He realized that he still held John’s shirt, touched a place between his shirt and trousers that he had created by holding it so tightly in his hand. 

“Do that again,” Childermass said. 

He was surprised to hear himself speak, because he had hardly finished thinking those words. 

John Segundus kissed him again. 

He made the kiss seem happy. How did John kiss happily, he wondered? But he did. John Segundus was happy to kiss him, happy to hold him in a park, happy to wind his fingers through his hair as the kiss continued. 

Childermass hugged him close when the kiss was done. 

He had missed this. He had to admit it. He had missed having someone close, feeling a body against his, feeling his body want another body. 

“We can take everything slowly,” said Segundus. “If there is anything. After this.” 

John smelled so clean. Childermass breathed him in. And he nodded as the first drizzle hit them.


	4. Gilbert and Sebastian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Johns end their first date.  
> A trip backward is taken to explore the loss of Hannah on her family.

The rain started before they got back to Childermass’ car and they arrived soaked, scrambling for the doors. 

Segundus sat next to him in the passenger seat, shivering. A drop of rain made its way from his hair and trailed down his neck into the collar of his green tee shirt. Childermass thought he wanted to kiss that place, the neck, the collar bone under the shirt. Then, he tried not to think it.

Childermass turned the heat on, but Segundus continued to shiver. 

“I should have dressed warmer,” Segundus muttered, but still good naturedly. The sentence ended with his lips turned in a smile.

Childermass shrugged off his jacket and tried to hand it to Segundus, who only stared at it with a look Childermass recognized eventually as mild horror. 

“Sorry,” said Segundus, “but, leather…” 

There was a long pause while Childermass watched the jacket dangle from his hand and Segundus not take it and then he pulled his arm back and put the jacket back on. 

“I didn’t think,” said Childermass. “Vegan. Of course.” 

“God, I’m being self righteous. I’m so sorry. I honestly don’t mind if you wear it, but I’d rather not. Thanks though.” 

“I can at least turn the heat up.” 

He did. Segundus only to shivered harder at first, but then, he seemed to warm a bit and the shaking slowly stopped as steam crawled up the windows. 

In the absence of any real experience with men to fill in the gaps in his imagination, Childermass found himself, as he remembered the kisses in the park and watched Segundus when he could, replaying it to himself. His body had been overwhelmed to the point of nearly embarrassing him and though he was nervous about moving forward, it craved more. 

The ride across town to Segundus’ flat was quiet, quiet in an electric way as the kisses hung between them and they both sneaked looks across the car. 

Segundus ran his hands through his through his new, short hair and for the first time, Childermass saw the start of grey at his temples. 

John didn’t move from his seat in the car when Childermass pulled up to the building. For the first time, as he began to play with it, Childermass noticed that John wore a thin bracelet around his right wrist. 

“I had a nice time,” said Segundus softly. 

“Me too.” 

Thin fingers twisted the bracelet again. Was John nervous? Childermass wondered what he had to be nervous about. He was young; the bit of gray at his temple a charming anomaly. He could find happiness anywhere. He did not need a tired man ten years his senior, a man who hadn’t touched another person in three years. John did not need a man who cried as much as he cried. 

“I understand,” said Segundus, “if you don’t know yet what to make of all this, or even what you want, but if you want to do this again, I do too.” 

Childermass nodded. 

“I do.” John’s fingers continued to twist the bracelet and Childermass continued to watch them. He had neat, white fingernails. There was so much to notice that Childermass hardly knew where to start. “All of it.” 

John still did not move toward leaving the car. The windshield wipers swished several times and the car’s heat clicked off. Childermass thought it might be an invitation; one he did not fathom, but one that was there. 

“Can I…” Childermass asked. 

Segundus had hardly stopped nodding yes before Childermass leaned over and took his soft face in his hands. 

It was a long kiss, broken gently by Segundus pulling away. He was flushed from the kiss, from the trapped heat of the car. Childermass, when Segundus pulled away, thought he looked years younger than he had when they got in the car.

“We don’t have to rush,” Segundus said. “In fact, I think...if I can say, I think you might regret it if you do. I don’t want to do that to you. I don't want you to go through that.”

“Slowly,” said Childermass. He felt he was babbling. He had said that earlier, he realized, but his thoughts were only just beginning to become coherent again after the kiss. 

John had taken his hand and he leaned over and gave Childermass a kiss on the cheek. He did not move away quickly but breathed a sigh against Childermass’ skin. Now John smelled like laundry soap and rain.

“We can talk soon. Figure out what comes next.”

“Yeah,” said Childermass. 

“I'll see you in the morning. When you drop Seb off.”

They said goodbye with their fingertips touching and Childermass drove away after watching Segundus enter his building.

 

The flat was quiet when Segundus came in. He took off his soaking jacket and hung it on the door and ran his hands down his goosebump covered arms to warm them. Emma and Flora were on the couch; Emma on her phone for work as she often was, and Flora napping with her head in her lap. 

Emma stopped her texting when Segundus came in. 

“What happened to you?”

“Rain. I'm drying off though.”

Emma paused her finger over her phone’s keyboard. 

“You're also grinning,” she said. 

“It was a good date.” 

Emma put down her phone. 

“How about you and I sort out dinner and you tell me about it? I never get to hear the gossip first.”

Emma shifted on the couch until she was able to lie Flora’s head down without her waking. Strands of her purple hair dangled over the cushion. 

“Come on, John,” said Emma as she stood. “You're a man who’s been kissed, I can tell. I want to hear. I'm engaged and living vicariously through you.”

“Okay, okay. Help me start some risotto. I’ll tell you everything.”

 

When Childermass arrived home, Cynthia was on the couch reading and the house was uncommonly quiet. A puzzle that had been started sat on the floor, half finished, but he could not see Sebastian anywhere. 

“Where’s Seb?” he asked. 

“Fell asleep in your bed an hour ago. I hope that's okay.”

“Of course. I'm just a bit surprised. He doesn't nap much these days. Sort of grown out of it.”

Childermass paid her and went upstairs where his son was curled up in the middle of the large bed. Childermass took off his shoes and got into bed next to him. 

Sebastian curled against his father as he slowly woke just enough to realize that he was home. 

“Did you have fun, Dad?”

“I did.”

“Good.”

A stand of his son’s soft, dark hair tickled under Childermass’ nose as Sebastian nuzzled closer. 

“Did you?” 

“Yeah, Dad.” 

Sebastian closed his eyes again and held Childermass’ wrist as he fell back to sleep. 

Bedtime would be a nightmare with Sebastian napping this late, but Childermass thought that this once, it was fine. He didn’t sleep, but thought about the afternoon and breathed in the play dough and peanut butter scent on his son, feeling happier, he thought, than he had since the day he lost his wife. 

*****

Gilbert Norrell didn’t like the sound of cell phones. They made him flinch. A lot of noises made him flinch though. Childermass put his phone on silent during the day in deference even though the buzzing of his phone vibrating was much more annoying that the ringing would have been, at least to him.

His phone sat in front of him now, buzzing. Norrell looked at it and Childermass with fairly obvious annoyance. Norrell had just sent him a chapter of the book to read and he could never settled until he’d been assured. He didn’t like the interruption of Childermass’ phone. They had reached an impasse over it however and Childermass raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just going to answer and get it over with,” said Childermass. 

Norrell didn’t like it, but Childermass did picked up the phone anyway. Sometimes, he had to. 

He turned the phone over and saw Hannah’s name on the screen. 

“It’s my wife,” he said to Norrell and he accepted the call. 

It wasn’t Hannah who answered when he said hello. He could hardly hear over the sound of the siren and the crying. Sebastian’s crying. 

“Is this John?” 

“Who is this?” 

Childermass was aware enough for a moment to see Norrell look up at him, his attention caught. He had been typing but his fingers hovered over the keys as he stared. His glasses had slipped down his nose. Childermass noticed that before the paramedic spoke again.

“Sir. You were listed as an emergency contact in Hannah Marvell-Childermass’ phone.” 

“She’s my wife. That’s Sebastian crying. That's my son.”

“Your wife and son are with us. In an ambulance. Your son is fine.” 

Your son is fine. 

“Hannah?” 

He was surprised that he remembered the name of the hospital they told him they were taking her to. But he must have. He must have remembered and somehow managed to tell Norrell, somehow managed to accept a ride that Norrell called for. Or he assumed Norrell called for it because he knew he didn’t and he found himself outside of a cab with Norrell shuffling his feet about a yard away, one hand in his pocket, the other holding out a large bill to the driver, whom he did not look at.

Childermass got into the cab. There was a little television on the back of the seat and the news was on. He remembered that: a woman in a blue dress, a man with dark hair. The driver must have sensed that something was wrong. He drove quietly but looked back often at Childermass.

“Just go. Keep the money.” 

He remembered Norrell saying that too, while he backed away, money held out at the driver. But the man tried to hand the change to him anyway. Childermass shook his head at it and stumbled from the car. 

 

Hannah's parents arrived late that night. 

Sebastian was long asleep when their cab finally pulled up. They didn't have to knock. Childermass had been watching for them in the window. His hand slipped as he tried to open the door for them and when he looked down, it was shaking. 

Childermass thought he should have some comfort for two people who had just lost their daughter, but when he saw them, Childermass sobbed and they stood together in the living room holding each other. 

“John, have you had anyone here? Have you had anyone to help?” his father-in-law asked.

“My boss got me a cab.”

“Is that all the help you’ve gotten, son?” 

He must have nodded. He must have because he heard them both say, “Oh, John,” and arms tightened around him. His mother in law’s earring pressed for a second against his ear, a cold feeling against his skin. 

Childermass settled them into the guest room, and then he went to his room, his room alone now, he had to remember. He lay down and soon fell into a very hard sleep despite the nausea that rolled his stomach around at the thought of getting into bed for the first time of an endless number without Hannah. 

He woke some time later to the sound of his son crying. Childermass had just managed to sit up when he heard his father-in-law in the hallway. Childermass knew it was he by a little cough he gave as he walked down the hall toward Sebastian’s room. 

Childermass lay back down and closed his eyes. The house got quiet again and soon he was asleep.

 

From time to time over the next few days, John Childermass saw people, mostly in his bedroom, and only his son and his in laws, Claire and Paul.

He listened to his family when they were nearby, in the hall or if the door to the bedrooms were open. He often heard his son cry. Sometimes Sebastian was comforted easily by his grandparents. Sometimes he cried for long, tense stretches and the noise filled the house. That was when they brought him to his father and Sebastian was usually asleep in minutes in his arms.

On the third day, Childermass asked his mother-in-law if he was being a bad father.

“No, John,” she said. 

“Is he okay? Do you think he’s okay.”

Claire blinked her eyes several times and she was crying. 

“No, John. I don't think he is okay now. But he will be. But he's in good hands.”

“Of course he is.”

“And he will be when we leave. You can do this, John.” 

He thought of the future, of years without Hannah he had ahead of him. He knew the days would come and he would live them because he had to, maybe even one day because he wanted to. But he could not see those days now.

 

Over the next several days, Hannah’s parents planned the funeral. 

They watched Sebastian, they brought their son-in-law food. The neighbors, one across the street and the ones on either side, heard the news and came over with food. Hannah’s parents took it and thanked them for John. 

They thought of many small things that were already taken care of by the time he remembered to stumble from his room and ask about them. Sometimes, he was brought papers to sign. Sometimes he was brought the phone and he said yes or no into it when asked a question. Once, he came downstairs and a magazine with Hannah’s name on it was sitting on the kitchen table with the rest of the mail. He did not know where it went but he did not see it again. 

Clare brought up to Childermass’ room a small, dark suit just Sebastian’s size and hung it on the back of his door without saying anything else about it. He was, as he watched it, endlessly glad he had not had to go and buy it, that he had not had to remember his son would need something to wear to the funeral until the moment he saw it for the first time. 

The pain was his new shadow and it followed him even in the dark. 

 

Gilbert Norrell called at 10:00 P.M. 

Sebastian was with him that night; asleep against Childermass’ chest when the phone rang. He woke with a cry that jolted his father though he was already awake from the ringing of the phone. . 

Childermass scrambled for the phone on the bedside table and when he saw Norrell’s name on the screen, he groaned as he answered. 

“Norrell. What?”

“John?”

“Who else? You called my phone.”

“Yes, of course.”

Childermass stroked his son’s hair in an effort to calm him, but Sebastian was awake and scared and he continued to scream. Childermass took a long breath and tried to calm himself. He understood Norrell; he always had. They understood each other. 

“Did you need something?” he asked.

“I hadn't heard from you.”

“That’s because my wife’s funeral is tomorrow afternoon.”

“Of course,” said Norrell. He cleared his throat. “What is that noise?” 

“The baby, Norrell.” 

Norrell said nothing. 

“I need to sleep. I need to get my son back to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day for us. You called to say something. Will you say it, please?” 

Norrell was shuffling. Childermass couldn’t see it or hear it, but he knew that Norrell was sitting somewhere or standing somewhere, shuffling or shifting in place. 

“Will you come back?” 

Sebastian was finally starting to calm, taking in sharp, sobbing breaths and yawning in turn. As he yawned, Childermass saw inside his son’s mouth that two new teeth were breaking through. He would have to remember to bring a teething toy tomorrow. 

“Of course I’m coming back.” 

“I was worried…” 

“I work for you. This hasn’t changed that. I just need time. I need to be with my son.” 

“How much time? Do you think?” 

“Norrell, I am saying goodbye now. I hope to see you tomorrow.” 

Childermass hung up the phone. He held his son until he was asleep again, clutching his father's hand. 

 

The funeral was on a Wednesday, exactly a week after Hannah died. 

John Childermass remembered little of it. He recalled the hot feeling in the back of his throat like he might be sick, Sebastian’s small clip on tie that he put on him before he left the car, the faint smell of new grass. It was a sunny day and the back of his neck got warm. 

People walked up to him; some of them said things. Some of them did not. 

Norrell was there, in the back of the group, tense surrounded by so many people so very sad. He hung around after, slowly making his way forward. 

When he finally worked up the nerve to approach Childermass, Norrell could only stare down at the ground. 

“I'm very glad you made it,” said Childermass.

Norrell nodded. His hands were balled at his sides in an act of keeping himself grounded, in place. 

“She was very young.”

The way Norrell said it sounded more like a statement of fact than one of sympathy, but Childermass understood him. 

“She was,” said Childermass. 

Norrell blinked at Sebastian. He looked quickly back up at Childermass as if just noticing for the first time their many similarities in appearance. 

“You did not want flowers, did you?” 

“Not especially,” said Childermass.

“That's what I thought.”

Sebastian rubbed at his eyes and stepped toward Childermass, who bent to pick him up. Childermass unclipped the tie he wore and put it in his own pocket.

“I hope you are alright,” said Norrell. 

“I'm not really.” 

Norrell scratched at his head and lifted one of his hands to shield his eyes from the sun. Childermass could tell that his feet itched to move, to flee. They shuffled in the new grass in front of him. 

Norrell and Sebastian both jumped at the sudden noise of someone in the reception area dropping a tea cup. The shattering carried easily in the quiet. Sebastian began to scream. 

“John. He's crying. Why is he crying?” asked Norrell. 

“Maybe because he doesn't understand where his mother is.”

Norrell’s mouth dropped open and it was seconds before he remembered to close it. He should feel bad for being so harsh, he knew. Childermass of all people knew when Norrell was trying.

“Thanks again for coming.” 

“John…” 

They watched each other and Norrell took the first step back. 

“I am sorry,” he whispered. 

Childermass nodded at the whisper, at Norrell. And he took his son and walked toward the other guests. 

 

For another week, his in laws stayed. 

He didn't mean for them to bring food to his room still, for his house to be clean each time he came downstairs, for folded clothes to arrive in his and Sebastian’s dresser drawers, but they did. The days passed too quickly; they slipped from him before he knew where they had gone. And then, he had to start a new one. 

Childermass bathed his son each night and put him to bed and then, he went out into the garden and he smoked. Inside, two parents cared for their late daughter's house and kept an eye on her husband.

Then, it was time for them to go. He'd wanted to drive them but they insisted that he not wake Sebastian that early and called a cab. 

They left with pictures, a few pieces of jewelry, small trinkets from Hannah's life. 

And then, John Childermass was alone. His only anchor was the need for Sebastian to keep a schedule and be cared for and he held to that; waking when he knew his son soon would, getting meals when Sebastian was hungry, and each night the long, comfortable routine of helping him to sleep. It was his favorite time of day; the quiet, the smell of lavender baby shampoo, the noise of a small hand hitting the water and sometimes a laugh. 

Three days after his in laws left, Childermass got a message from two of his friends asking if he wanted a visit. The reply took ages. He did not, but he thought he should, so he said yes. 

He felt it was a mistake the next day when they knocked at the door. Before he even saw them , he knew he was not ready. The only person he wanted to see was already there in the house with him, the only person who might hurt like he hurt right now.

Lucas and Davey had come with pizza. Had he wanted that? He couldn't remember now if he had said yes to that yesterday. 

The door closed and it felt loud though it wasn’t. 

They know it's a mistake too, Childermass thought. They could tell he wasn't ready. They could see now that they weren’t either. He was tired; the circles under his eyes darker each morning. He was, already, graying more. He knew it. 

“Hello, John,” said Lucas. 

There was a pause before Davey said the same, more quietly. 

Childermass took the pizza and his friends took off their shoes. Sebastian sat on the floor with a toy, looking up at his father and the guests. 

“Let me get some plates,” muttered Childermass. And then he remembered. “I’m glad you could come.” 

When he came back with plates, Lucas and Davey were peering around the living room. There many pictures of Hannah still around and his friends avoided the gaze of the woman in the picture like she was there. 

His first instinct was to say that he was sorry, but he was not sure what for. He handed them each a plate and mumbled thank you. Childermass wasn’t hungry but he took a piece of pizza anyway and put it on the plate for something to do with his hands. He thought that Davey and Lucas did the same, that all appetites were lost and now the food was only there as a distraction. They all, after serving themselves, looked down at their plates. Sebastian pulled himself up from the floor and walked toward his father, who lifted him on to the couch to sit next to him. 

“He’s quiet,” said Lucas. “Last time I saw Sebastian, he was talking a lot.” 

“We’re not sleeping well. He’s tired.” 

“Oh. I see.” 

“He’s confused right now, I think.” 

Childermass did not want to pretend he was going to eat when he was not. He did not have the energy for it. He put the plate on the coffee table and and pulled Sebastian into his lap. 

“Do you need anything? Is there…” Davey stared again at a picture of Hannah. It was one from last summer, when Sebastian was only a few months old and she stood in the kitchen holding him. 

There were things Childermass needed. He needed to grocery shop but did not want to, could not think of how he would manage to get his feet to go that far. Within a few days there would be more laundry to do and he couldn't face the thought. But he could not ask. If nothing else, that would mean asking people again into a space he felt was only safe only for himself and Sebastian right now. 

“I don’t know,” said Childermass. He reached back to his plate on the table and tore a portion of the pizza into chunks for Sebastian. 

Davey and Lucas both quietly, about a second apart, said that they were sorry. Childermass was again confused by apologies. He had felt he should say one but wasn’t sure why and he wasn’t sure why his friends were apologizing now. He was tired and wished that they would leave. They had done nothing wrong but he wanted them, very much, to leave. 

Davey and Lucas could sense it and they moved their plates, food largely untouched, toward the coffee table. 

“We miss her too,” said Lucas. “Not as much as you, but we do.” 

“I know.” 

Davey reached over and ruffled Sebastian’s hair. He smiled at it and Childermass was glad he did. 

“Really. Thank you. I know I’m terrible company right now…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” said Lucas. “We’ll come back, if you need. Anytime.” 

“Yeah.” 

No one was sure how the leaving should work. There was a mumbled chorus of goodbyes, false starts toward handshakes. 

Childermass and Sebastian fell asleep on the couch when they were gone and when he woke, it was to the noise of a neighbor mowing his lawn across the street and the smell of fresh grass, which nearly made him sick.


	5. Red Apron, red car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another date, and a bout of nerves moving forward.

As Segundus dressed the next morning, he could not forget that he would need to see John and Sebastian again and very soon. He and John had left it at deciding they would like to see each other again, but Segundus knew it was not as simple as that, as much as he had enjoyed the evening before. 

Segundus had never dated someone with children; had never even thought about the possibility and now had been on a date with a man he liked very much who had a small and vulnerable son whom he also liked very much. John, Segundus thought, was vulnerable as well in a way that was unusual to him. He had not been with anyone with the life scars John had. It made him cautious, anxious to save John more hurt by moving things too quickly.

The chill of the day before had deepened over night. He thought that it still rained too though he hadn't looked outside yet.

Segundus’ formerly soaking wet clothes from the night before were hung to dry in his room, still damp. Every time he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror he was surprised all over again by his new haircut, by how different he looked with it. Everything was a reminder of the previous evening; that he was still so unsure about so much. 

Segundus knew that Flora would know what to do, so when she wandered from her room he handed her a cup of tea he had ready. 

“Emma told me about last night,” she said as she sat down with her at the kitchen table. “You kissed him three times?”

“Yes, and now I need some advice.”

“How did you get by without us?” Flora asked. 

“Very well thanks, I'll have you know.” 

Flora sipped her tea, her elbows on the table and a yawn on her lips. 

“I guess what you do depends on how much you like him. How much do you like him?”

Segundus leaned back against the counter. There was a moment, when he tilted his head forward, that he expected hair to fall in front of his eyes, but of course it did not.

“I…I want to go out again,” he said. “I’m very attracted to him and I think he’s a good father and an interesting man. I could see something happening.”

“And the kid?”

“He's amazing. It’s so much more complicated than I’m used to, though.” 

Flora shrugged. 

“You know to be careful. And you know how to be kind. Talk to John and do what you think is right. That moral compass of yours is typically spot on.” 

Segundus did not find this helpful at first, but he thought on it as he cycled to work in the chilled drizzle.

When he arrived, he opened the school and turned on all of the lights. His morning routine was to prepare a snack for the children and set up the classroom and he went downstairs to the kitchen and cut fruit to bring up for for the children. 

Segundus heard Honeyfoot come in as he arranged the morning’s workshops around the room for the children; trays of sand and block towers. He stood the doorway to say good morning and chat about weekends. Segundus was reminded of the moment in the school’s kitchen just Friday, when Honeyfoot had told him that he trusted him with to the right thing whatever came of him and John. His nerves again increased at the thought of how much was at stake. 

 

Segundus put on his apron as the first students arrived and took off their light coats and rain boots in the classroom entrance.

John and Sebastian arrived late, Sebastian looking uncharacteristically sleepy. He held his father’s hand tightly and used the other to grip his stuffed elephant as they walked into the classroom. 

“We has a bit of a rough go of bedtime and then of the morning,” John explained. He put an affectionate hand on Sebastian’s head. The way John interacted with his son was one of the most endearing things about him to Segundus, even if he was nervous of entering into a still grieving family.

Segundus leaned down to Sebastian’s eye level. 

“Tired today?” 

Sebastian nodded. 

“Take it easy then. You can go get a book if you want and sit in the quiet area.” 

Sebastian sat down on the floor to pull off his boots and set the elephant next to him. As he yanked one boot off, he looked up at Segundus.

“Teacher John. Did you have a good time with my dad yesterday?”

“I…” 

Segundus looked around quickly to see if any of the other children or parents had heard. His eyes caught John’s as he did and John’s frown told him that his nervousness had been noticed and that he had been hurt by it. 

“Don’t worry about it,” John said to him quietly. But he, it was obvious to Segundus, was disappointed in the reluctance he had sensed. 

Sebastian looked between his father and teacher but did not repeat his question. 

“Go on, love,” said John. Sebastian stood up and walked into the classroom, where he retrieved a book and curled up on a bean bag in the corner.

“Sorry,” Childermass muttered once Sebastian was out of hearing. “I didn’t mean for him to embarrass you.” 

“He didn’t. It’s just...you know, school and all. The others don’t know.” 

“I understand.”

“But…”

Segundus looked around again at the room full of people. He wanted to say that he had had a good time: that he did like John. He wanted to explain so much about how he only didn't want anyone hurt. He knew that he could not right now though. 

“We don't have to talk about it just this moment,” said John. “I'll call you? Is that alright?”

“It is. It really is.”

John eased a bit at the warmth of Segundus’ response and at the smile he smiled at him before he left. 

 

It had been a long time since Sebastian had slept in his father’s room, but Childermass let him that night. 

They ate a late dinner after Sebastian woke up from his nap and then, once his bath was done and his pajamas on, they watched movies until Sebastian fell asleep again much too late, curled against Childermass. 

Childermass stayed up after that, answering emails from Norrell until he too was tired enough to sleep. Sebastian stirred when his father switched the light off, but only rolled over on to his back and spread his arms out.

It was another good night of sleep for Childermass. He knew he wasn't young but he felt it just then as pulled the covers over himself and Sebastian, if only a little. He felt safe with Sebastian close on this wintry spring night and the afternoon had left him happy, his mind surprisingly unweighted. 

Childermass slept thinking of the clean clothes smell of John Segundus and the warmth of his son next him, a small peaceful body.

The rain was light the next morning when he woke, a comfortable pattering that was the first thing he heard when Childermass opened his eyes.. His son was still asleep, his cheeks pink and his dark hair tangled at the back from sleeping on it.

Sebastian woke slowly, groggily when Childermass called his name.

The routine of a school morning was comfortable to Childermass now. He didn't dread anymore leaving Sebastian at school. The unusually quiet breakfast didn't unsettle Childermass. Sebastian ate well if he didn't speak much. 

Sebastian put on his favorite rain boots before they left, and a coat his father noticed was already getting a bit too small at the sleeves. 

Was it only Thursday, Childermass thought, that John had been over to bring them Jennifer and it had been so sunny? Time was like that; sometimes showing fast on his son’s sleeves and bare wrists exposed, sometimes moving slowly through a weekend where he was happy.

When Sebastian asked John if he had nice time on the date, Childermass watched John’s face and he understood. John liked them, he thought even liked them very much, but he was not ready. He was open, but he wasn't there just yet.

Childermass could not blame him. He wasn't sure he was ready himself to open the closed space in his life again, in his and Sebastian’s lives. But he felt himself saddened by knowing John’s hesitation. Childermass hoped it did not mean the end of the warmth he had felt over the last several days.

John’s apron was faded red, covered in paint splotches of many different colors. He still wore the bracelet around his wrist. 

I hope he gives us time, Childermass thought. Childermass was no more sure about things than he sensed Segundus was, but time was a thing he knew he wanted. Time to see where things went. Time for that coffee they never got to have, perhaps. Time to see how John’s hair grew out maybe. 

John smiled at him before he left. 

Time, Childermass thought. Maybe we can have that. 

The rain was down to a drizzle by the time Childermass left the school and got to his car. I kissed John sitting in this seat, he thought, only yesterday. I haven't felt like that in twenty five years, he admitted to himself. I haven't gone weak for a kiss since Hannah. I haven't had a kiss since Hannah.

Childermass thought again that he would be happy to have time, just a little bit more to see what happened with John Segundus. 

 

He was late to work and Norrell was pacing by the time he arrived though hardly twenty minutes had passed since he normally would have arrived.

They didn't greet each other except for Norrell visibly relaxing as Childermass hung his jacket. 

“Everything is well?”

“Sure,” said Childermass. “Just a bit of a parenthood.”

Norrell tilted his head and cleared his throat but said nothing while a long bit of quiet passed. 

“You responded very late last night. And now it's nearly 10:00. That's why I ask.” 

Childermass grunted quietly at his computer.

“It's not nearly 10:00. It's 9:22.” 

Norrell squirmed in his seat. Childermass sat down at his own desk and turned on his computer. 

“I was a bit busy yesterday,” he said. “That's all.”

“Of course.”

He knew he didn't have to say anything. But Norrell knew him well enough to know when there was a change in him. Norrell had noticed and it made him nervous. It was, he knew, best to tell before nerves got the best of Norrell so that they could get on with their day.

“I had a date yesterday afternoon.”

“A date?” 

“Yes.” 

Under his reading glasses, Norrell’s eyes squinted. 

“You took someone out?” Norrell asked. 

“I did. Sebastian’s teacher.”

Norrell nodded several times like Childermass’ words had taken human shape and he needed to appease them. 

“Did you agree with the edits I suggested last night?”

“What?” 

“I'm trying to change the subject,” said Childermass. 

“Oh.”

“There's not a lot to say. It was only one date. We went to a pub and for a walk. That's it.”

Childermass opened a file on his computer and began to type. 

“But you like this person?”

“I do like him,” said Childermass. “He's very kind. He's good for Sebastian.”

Norrell still hadn't turned his attention to his own work yet. Childermass knew when he had something to say and was working up the courage and he waited. 

“Then...I hope it turns out well,” Norrell said to Childermass. 

Childermas thought that he did not; that in fact he was nervous that he could not in any way control what happened between Childermass and this person he did not know. But he said it because he wanted it to be true and that was enough for Childermass. 

“Thank you.”

Norrell didn't move toward his work for another handful of seconds. When he did, he was to Childermass much more at ease. 

They spent a quiet morning at work, neither speaking more than a word or two at a time.

 

The afternoon went easier for them, when they saw each other again. 

The day had slowly gotten sunny if still cool and when John arrived to pick up Sebastian, Segundus had stories to tell about the work he had done in the herb garden with with the other children. It made for easy conversation, standing together by the students’ cubbies. John smiled at the stories in his held back way as he watched Sebastian finish a drawing in the classroom. 

Segundus knew that watching John as a father was one of the more complex feelings he would ever process; how the sweetness and sadness of them burrowed deep into him.

“He really likes you, know,” said Childermass. “I don't know if you know just how much he talks about you at home.”

For a long moment, he watched his son leaned over the paper, chatting with the small girl sitting next to him as color filled the page.

“I hope that’s okay to say.”

“It is,” said Segundus.

John looked down at his shoes. 

“I…” He shook his head and put his black hair behind his ears as his eyes darted away. “No, sorry. I won't embarrass you again.” 

“It's fine,” Segundus said. “Please don't worry. And really, I'm not embarrassed. I was just a bit surprised this morning.”

“Good. Good. I felt bad about earlier.”

“Please, you've done nothing wrong. And Seb certainly hasn't.”

Segundus wasn't sure at first the reason for the pause that followed, the sudden lifting up of John’s eyes. 

“You, uh, you called him Seb,” said John. 

“I did.”

“You never have before. No one has. I've never heard anyone but me or his mother call him that.”

Before Segundus could say what he wanted, which was to ask if was alright that he had, John had started speaking again. 

“It’s not a problem. I was just-”

He stopped suddenly. 

“I said I'd call. I should probably just call.”

“Sure,” Segundus said. “I'd like that alot.”

John called Sebastian to come get ready to go home. Segundus stepped back to speak to another parent but for a moment his eyes lingered on dark haired Sebastian pulling on his boots and his dark haired father leaned over him, talking about dinner.

They are a family; they have the same hair, the same hands and they say their words the same too, even though Sebastian had never lived where John has. 

Segundus waved goodbye to Sebastian as he stood. 

“Bye, Teacher John.” 

“Bye, Seb.” 

The men named John noticed then, as Sebastian grinned, the same loose tooth at the bottom front of his smile. His first. They opened their mouths to say something to each other at the same time and closed them at the same time too, with very similar soft smiles.

 

The week passed and on Saturday evening, Segundus again waited outside his apartment for John Childermass and his old red car. 

His shirt was new, something Flora had bought and brought home two days before; another shade of green for him to try, this one deeper. He had protested at first that he did not want to wear the same color each time they went out, but after trying the shirt on had decided he liked it very much after all. He got a smug look when he came out dressed for his date in it, but he gave Flora that as she had after all been right twice now. Three if he counted the haircut, which he did. 

John had not cleaned his car since Sunday six days before when Segundus had last been in. If anything, it was more cluttered. A book of dinosaur stickers and a small shoebox sat in the backseat next to Sebastian’s car seat. 

“Shoe shopping this afternoon,” John explained. “Seb is going to be too big for everything soon. I had to bribe him with stickers. He gets that from me; I hate shopping if I don’t have to. Even then, actually.”

“You should get used to him growing out of clothes. He’s going to be tall,” said Segundus. 

John smiled the unreserved smile Segundus only saw when John talked about his son. 

“Maybe taller than I am. We’ll see, I guess.” 

John drove them to a vegan restaurant several blocks away that he had found in a search for a place to go tonight where he knew Segundus could eat. Segundus noticed that John had a tie on for this date and for the first time, trousers that were not blue jeans. He thought they were likely a purchase of the afternoon as well as they looked very new and still had creases in them that hinted strongly of a store rack. 

It was obvious that John had wanted very much to make a nice evening for Segundus. It was much more formal and planned, a bit more old fashioned, than he was used to but he found himself relaxing in the restaurant as they sat across from each other waiting for the food. 

“This is a very nice place,” Segundus said. 

“I never thought of a whole vegan restaurant before. And now I’ve shown how old I am, I guess.” 

“Not all,” said Segundus. 

“It was all take away and pints last time I did this. Of course, I was still in school.” John stopped in the middle of taking a sip of water. “I never know how much is okay. Talking about...her. About everything.” 

“I don’t mind it all,” said Segundus. 

“I like that when you say something like that I know you mean it,” said John. 

They both blushed. 

Something about the evening made Segundus feel young; John’s nervousness, the care that showed through the whole evening, John’s discomfort wearing a tie he had put on to look nice for him. 

The food arrived and Segundus thought it was time for them to talk about what they needed to talk about before anything else could happen. 

“I'm nervous, John,” he said. “I'm nervous because I'm so unsure. I'm nervous because I think we like each other but need to be so careful. I'm nervous because I'm not sure that either of us is as ready as we want to be.”

“But you haven't given up on…this?” 

“No,” said Segundus. “Not at all.”

“I haven’t either. Maybe that can be okay for now? Being careful and not giving up?” 

It was as good an answer as Segundus had either and he nodded. The meal finished comfortably. 

He took John’s hand as they left the restaurant later and John moved closer to him. 

A breeze wound through the night. 

“How long do you have the sitter for?” Segundus asked. He could hardly believe that he had just said such a thing on a date. Though the words sounded odd, he let them play a bit in his mind after he had spoken. John has a son, he thought. Sebastian is with the sitter. And we are out together. 

“She can stay till 11:00.” 

“It’s hardly 9:30 now.” 

They walked with purpose far away, away from Childermass’ car and toward a quiet street of darkened and closed businesses. 

“It’s okay,” John said. “It’s okay if all of this is odd for you, you know. If it’s all too much or if it gets to be. I really won't hold it against you at all.”

“It’s just not what I’m used to. I'm trying to wrap my head around all of this as best I can.”

“But...

“I think it should be obvious by now that I do like you.”

“You’re being very patient with an old man who has no clue about anything at all and didn’t even know there were restaurants without meat.” 

Segundus gave him a playful shove with his shoulder and felt John squeeze his hand tighter. 

They paused in a corner. It was a corner with no light, one where the night had been left to grow. They knew why they had come there and John stopped and turned to him. 

“I would like to kiss you again,” John whispered. 

“I would like that too.” 

There was a tussle as they arranged themselves against the wall, saw who would be the first to touch the skin of the other under clothes. John sighed into a kiss as he wound up pressed against the building, a hand on his chest under his shirt. 

“God, you know how to kiss,” he said into Segundus’ ear. 

“Well.” 

John pawed at the back of his neck with his hands as Segundus picked back up the kissing. 

They stayed in each other’s arms for several minutes before breaking away. 

“I think...I think that’s enough for tonight,” said Segundus. 

John’s cheek brushed against his as he nodded, catching his breath. 

“You’re good,” he said. “You’re a very good person.” 

“Oh.” 

“You are,” said John. He rested his head against Segundus’ shoulder. 

“I can only try.” 

They didn’t need the heat in the car this time. John drove them around for a while until they both felt like he needed to be home soon. 

Segundus, as he turned to go inside, saw the book of stickers and the box of new shoes in the backseat of the car.


	6. Cariad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Johns keep moving forward in their relationship, but things aren't easy.

Spring began to arrive in earnest, slowly. There was more sun, more warmth. Day by longer day, spring began to show itself in small ways. 

The children spent hours outside each week, sometimes eating their lunches and snacks in the shade of the school building. The small school garden started to bloom. Colorful shoots pushed up through the mud and the vegetables the children had planted grew big enough to eat. The students’ cheeks were some days pink with sun, under their fingernails dirty. 

At home, in the flat he shared with Flora and Emma, the windows were open more often than they were not. They put away the heavy winter blankets for another year. 

And John Segundus fell in love. 

He saw it coming and he was not surprised when he realized what had happened. The moment wasn't special; just one of John reaching for a chip from the bag that sat between them on the park bench and looking up to smile his crinkle eyed smile at Segundus when their fingers brushed. Segundus knew then how much he wanted to always look up and see that smile. He wanted always it to be spring, to sit in the light of a sunset, and for John to be there. And it was love.

That was easy, happy to move into. 

He started going out with John each weekend. They stayed out as late as they could and in the back of John’s car, they sometimes wrapped around each other and sometimes, Segundus showed John the things he knew that John did not. 

Segundus grew comfortable with the routine, with waking on Saturdays or Sundays knowing that soon he would see John. He collected bits of knowledge about him when they were out: what kind of driver he was, what music he liked, his mother’s name. Segundus memorized the feeling of John’s hand in his, the outfits John was most likely to wear. He knew the look John gave him when he turned off the car, the one right before he kissed him. 

And he fell in love. 

They drove away from town and they sat together one night. Or laid together. The seats of John’s car were reclined and they lay side by side, hands meeting in the middle staring at the front windshield at a half moon partially covered by trees. The dinner John had brought sat in the back seat. 

“What do you think?” John asked. He slipped his thumb under Segundus’ bracelet and pressed it against his wrist. “Of hanging out with me and Sebastian some weekend? Maybe all of us having dinner together again at ours?” 

He was in love, but still he paused. 

“John. Are you sure it's the right time?”

With his thumb, John rubbed his wrist lightly. 

“No. I’m never really sure of anything. But Seb knows we’re dating. He knows what that means.” 

“Well, yes, of course.” 

John turned over on his side to look at him.

“I'm worried too, you know.”

“I do,” said Segundus.

“And I would never do anything to hurt Seb, or anything I thought might.” 

“I know that, too. It's the last thing you’d do.”

John rolled back over and he sighed. He reached for Segundus’ hand again. His body made many so many long lines, whatever he did, and he made one with his arm, reaching for Segundus and another stretching. 

“He's asked about you, is all. Maybe I shouldn't say that. I just don't know what to say. To either of you. I can never tell what the right thing is. I never prepared for this. I never…”

“I know,” said Segundus.

“And I don't want to pressure you.”

“Oh John, don't worry about that.”

John again caressed his the soft underneath of his wrist, right where his pulse beat, with his thumb. 

“It's hard for me not to want you around more,” John said.

John Segundus was in love and he held John Childermass’ hand in a car on a night in mid May. He was happy. And he did not know what to do. 

 

Sebastian spoke to him in French, more than he ever had before. Childermass had taught him a bit of what he knew, but now that he went to school each day and spoke it there, he picked up more than ever. And John had taught him it all. Sebastian no longer spoke French with his father’s Yorkshire accent but with Segundus’ and Childermass was reminded of him each time he heard his son speak.

Childermass was always surprised to hear it, to realize that he had poured Sebastian more juice after he'd asked it for it in French, like he would at school. He walked by Sebastian’s room sometimes and heard him talking to Jennifer in French. It was another change, like the gap in Sebastian's smile when he lost his first tooth. Was only six weeks ago he'd brought Sebastian to school for the first time and cried? The world seemed entirely different now, nearly unrecognizable. 

He looked forward each day to seeing Segundus in the morning and the afternoon when he bought Sebastian to school and when he picked him up. In bed at night, he lay with his phone, sometimes texting John until late. And on the weekends, he rediscovered desire. He discovered it in the spaces between John Segundus’ fingers and the kisses they shared in his car. He loved to touch John, to have John touch him. He loved to talk to John and listen to him.

He loved John.

Childermass knew the feeling of love well. He had felt it with Hannah, still felt it for Hannah, and he felt it now. There was more more room in him for love than he had ever imagined and he was as frightened of it as he was delighted. Childermass had never thought he would feel love again, not after the phone call three years ago where the ambulance siren and his son’s crying vying to drown out the news of what had happened to his wife. He had not thought he would feel it, but he did. He wanted a life with John Segundus, but he did not know how to make one, or what it would look like. 

There was a large space where Hannah had once been. It would never be filled in and it would never leave. Childermass knew that space would always hang just out of his vision, that it would live in his home with him forever. Hannah and the loss of her were his forever. But there was another space now, one that had opened up unexpectedly. And it was a space created by Segundus, one only he could fill because it had not existed before Childermass had first seen him through the window of his son’s classroom. 

The night was warm and the car windows were open. They had hours. Nights hadn't felt this long in years. 

“What do you think?” he asked. 

He wanted to explain to John about the space, the one that had opened up when he came into his life. It was all that he could think to say though, in the warm car that smelled of the loaf of bread he'd bought for dinner, holding John’s hand. 

But John was good, and John understood him.

They ate dinner quietly, sitting on the hood of the car. They pulled the loaf of bread apart and dipped into a carton of hummus and between them sat a cup of olives. 

“Let's wait,” John said. He drank from the thermos of tea. “A few more weeks. And see how we feel.”

Childermass agreed. The space would be there in the few weeks, if John wanted it and they decided then that it was time. He had only wanted him to know that it was there, to offer it to him. 

They laid on the hood of the car when they were done eating and Childermass rested with his head against John’s chest. God, he thought, but it was nice to be held for a bit. After years, it was nice to find himself in a pair of arms and falling asleep a little. He had taken care of Sebastian for so much of every day that he’d hadn’t realized how much he had missed all Hannah had done for him, how it felt to be cared for.

John woke him when it was time to go home. The night had only a little chill to it and on the hood of the car, still in John Segundus’ embrace, it was easily held at bay. 

 

Flora wanted to know if he was sure about this. 

They waited up for Emma, each with a glass of wine. Flora had just, with Segundus’ help, dyed her hair silvery gray for her engagement pictures and given herself fringe and a black and white movie played on Flora’s computer that sat in her lap. The windows were open again tonight, but smell of bleach still hung in the air. Tomorrow, Segundus would go back to John’s house and he would spend the evening with him and Sebastian. The few weeks had passed and they had decided to try an evening with the three of them.

“You don’t have to want this just because you love them,” she said. 

“But I’m not sure I don’t want it. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have to have to what they have together. They're a family. You and Emma are one. It sort of makes me want to see what I'm missing.”

“Oh, John.” Flora rested her head on Segundus’ shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “You’re too precious for your own good, you know.”

They fell asleep on the couch and Emma woke them when she came home. The three of them had an early morning breakfast just before 2:00 A.M. and then went back to bed. 

When Segundus woke again, it was just about afternoon. He could hear cooking from the kitchen, the sound of Emma calling for them to wake up. He showered and worked on lesson plans until it was time to ride his bike to John and Sebastian’s. 

 

Childermass told his mother and father-in-law when he began to date John and later when it looked like it might become serious. He knew he didn't need to ask permission but he loved them and wanted them to know what went on in his and Sebastian’s lives. They were the ones he asked at each turn what Hannah would think, if they thought he did right. He had lost his own mother as a young man and they were as close as he had to parents.

“Hannah would only want you to be happy,” they said when he asked. “She’d like the idea of you having someone there. And we like it, too.”

He called them again the morning of John’s visit before Sebastian woke. Childermass had started the day thinking of John’s visit and what it meant to him and Sebastian. Along with all the pictures of Sebastian on his phone now he had a few of John that he'd snapped when they were out; John in a museum cafe with a cup of tea, looking down, away from the camera but smiling. John stooping to feed a crust of bread to a duckling in the park. Childermass looked at a few of them before getting out of bed, shocked as always at how happy he was. 

His own happiness came with worry, uncertainty. He went to the kitchen and made tea. He allowed himself a cigarette standing in the back garden when he called the people he thought of as his parents. His father-in-law was out but Claire spoke to him. He could hear the clang of dishes in the background as she tidied her kitchen.

“Oh, John, I can't tell you what's right for your family. I don't even think you want me to. It sounds like you want to hear I don't think you're a terrible man for falling in love again and thinking of yourself a little. I can say it again if you like. You’re no good to your son if you’re unhappy and John sounds lovely. He makes you happy.”

“He is. He does.”

“You've always been a good father. You'll keep on being one. Nothing is going to change that, I am sure of it. And if you trust this other John, then I know he's good. Besides, you're finally sounding like yourself again and that is very good to hear.”

Childermass smoked another cigarette when he hung up the phone and poured the cold last of his tea into the grass.

Sebastian woke late the day of John’s visit. When he had eaten and dressed, the two went shopping for the dinner they planned to cook for John that night. 

 

Sebastian answered the door when Segundus arrived just after 4:00. 

“Hi Teacher John,” he said. “Dad’s making pizza dough and he’s a mess.” 

“I am,” called John from the kitchen. “Come in and have some tea if you’d like.” 

In the kitchen, Sebastian had a coloring book and crayons set out on the table and John was at the counter, his hands in a bowl of dough. He was in a tee shirt that was covered in flour, as were his forearms. John’s long hair was pushed back from his forehead with a headband The radio was on but so softly that Segundus could hardly hear the music. A cookbook sat on the counter in front of where John worked. 

“Hope this okay,” said John. “No cheese, of course. On your side, anyway.” 

“Of course. Thanks.” 

Segundus poured himself the cup of tea he’d been invited to have and sat at the tale with Sebastian, who tore a page from the coloring book and pushed it toward Segundus before picking back up his own work. Segundus saw that Sebastian’s hair was dusted with flour from where he had likely helping with the cooking not long ago. There was a small, white thumbprint on his cheek.

“Do you like coloring in, Teacher John?” 

Segundus picked up the green crayon from the table and looked over at Sebastian’s picture. 

“Sure. But why are you using your right hand, Seb? You’re left handed.” 

“I want to use both, like Dad,” he said, frowning down at his picture. “But it’s very messy.” 

Segundus looked up at John, who just shrugged. 

“Whatever makes him happy, I guess,” he said. 

John joined them when the dough was ready to sit and rise, bringing his own cup of tea to the table. He sat next to Segundus and held Segundus’ hand under the table with his right and with his left, he colored. Sebastian switched to French as he told Segundus about the morning he and his father had had and about his plans for the evening. 

 

The afternoon was quickly over, dinner in the oven and the table set. The kitchen was warm from the oven, from the lingering afternoon that only reluctantly began to turn to evening. 

Sebastian had gone off to play in the living room on his own and Childermass and Segundus were alone in the kitchen. They sat still at the table, Sebastian’s pictures between them. One he had written John’s name on the top of and given to him to take home as a present. 

“John,” said Childermass. He looked down at the picture his son had done; the four letters at the top that showed who it was for. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“Is...God, sorry, this is hard. Are you uncomfortable with how much Sebastian likes you? Please, be honest. I know he's been a little clingy since you got here.”

“It’s different than at school,” Segundus said softly. “It’s taking some getting used to.” 

“But?” 

“But...But I’m okay. I think. This just very much your home, the two of you. It’s not just you and me. It’s really the three of us and I'm not here as his teacher this time.”

Childermass leaned in to nuzzle at his neck for a moment, something he had been wanting to do since they were alone and he felt comforted by the closeness 

“Tell me. Tell me if something isn’t okay.” 

Segundus nodded and Childermass pulled away from him. Sebastian was quiet in the living room, but there was the occasional noise of blocks knocking together, or the sound of him muttering at himself as he played. Childermass thought, not for the first time, that he wished Sebastian had had more in his life. He was too good at playing alone, a bit old for five after so long being with his father every day. 

“I do love him too, you know,” Segundus said. “It’s a bit scary for me.” 

John leaned back in his chair and rested a hand a Segundus’ knee. . 

“If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t have asked you here.” 

“I haven’t even said it before, that I do. I’ve never heard myself say the words. Flora says I do, she says it all the time...” 

There was the noise of many blocks falling over and Sebastian laughed and called out to his father in French what had happened in the game he’d created. 

 

Though they’d set the table, they decided in the end to eat outside on an old beach blanket set out in the garden. Three pairs of shoes sat around the blanket; two pairs of worn down men’s shoes in different sizes and a smaller, newer pair of shoes that were Sebastian’s. The towel John had brought outside for them was blue, still bright, and Segundus found himself looking down it at often, wondering about the holiday it had been bought for. 

The neighborhood was still lively in the light and the warmth and as they ate, they could hear others outside as well, chattering and the sound of music from one house, dogs barking from another.

“Teacher John,” said Sebastian. He had begun to get tired as they ate and he yawned between bites of his food. “Can we play a game after dinner?” 

“Shouldn’t you ask your dad that?” 

“No, I mean, can you you play with us? Will you stay for a while?” 

“Seb-” Childermass looked up quickly at Segundus, trying to read how he would react to extending the evening together. 

“But Dad, I don’t want him to go home. It’s not fair. He’s only just got here.” 

The back garden got quiet. Both men watched Sebastian, who had set down his food and seemed to be settling in for a protest. 

“I’ll stay for a game,” said Segundus. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want. Seb, cariad, that’s a bit rude of you. Say sorry to John now, please.” 

“No,” said Segundus. “It’s-” 

He paused, distracted by something John had said. 

“Do you have Welsh family, John?” 

“Oh.” John’s chest filled with breath and he lifted his eyes. “No, it was-” 

It was Hannah. The name hung in the air. 

“My mum was Welsh,” said Sebastian. “And my Gran is and my Pops. Cariad’s what they call me sometimes. It sounds funny when Dad says it though, because he’s from Yorkshire and not from Wales.” 

Segundus set down his plate next to Sebastian’s. In the long pause, a bird called out and rustled a tree and John reached for his hand. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“Please…” 

“Dad? “ asked Sebastian. He looked between his father and Segundus, his small mouth turned down. “But I’m still meant to say sorry? Sorry, Teacher John.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Seb. I know what you meant.” 

A few houses down, the music got louder.

 

Childermass put Sebastian to bed later while Segundus waited downstairs. Sebastian had wanted Segundus to read to him but Childermass had said no and taken him upstairs before he could get too upset about it. Sebastian had not protested much after all and had fallen asleep quickly. 

He half expected to see Segundus in the process of getting ready to leave when he came back, but he sat on the couch waiting and Childermass loved him all the more for it; for his patience, for how he sat straight backed with his hands in his lap. 

Childermass saw the pictures of Hannah in the living room every day but he noticed them in a new way now that John Segundus sat in front of them, looking up at Hannah from time to time. What must he think? John did not feel Hannah in the house like he felt her, but he must in some way have been able to sense her. She was everywhere. Childermass stopped at the bottom of the steps, watching John. 

“That wasn’t how I thought this would go,” Childermass said. “I’m-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. No one’s done a thing at all wrong, so forget about it.” 

Childermass approached the couch and sat down next to Segundus. 

“Thanks for coming. You’re not terrified of us now, are you? God, I tried too hard, I know.” 

Segundus looked up at a picture of Hannah and her family; a small woman, barely to her husband’s shoulders. He wouldn’t hear her laugh when he looked at the picture, or miss her kisses, or know what it was like to be twenty years old and take her for a drink he couldn’t afford in a loud student pub that smelled of ash trays and had sticky tables. He wouldn’t know what looking at a son that had her smile was like and what it was like to realize that was the last place he would ever see that smile outside of a picture. 

“Your wife was Welsh,” John said. 

“My wife was Welsh.” He could remember her last morning, kissing her on the forehead before he left for work never guessing, never once having the slightest clue, that it would be the last time. John would never know, like he knew, but he could try. “Her birthday was the fourth of October. Her middle name was Claire, for her mum.” 

Segundus wrapped an arm around him, rested a cheek against his collarbone. Childermass sighed into his soft hair.

“I’m tired,” said Childermass. “Very tired.”

“Oh, John.” 

Childermass closed his eyes. He did not want John to go, not really. It had been so long since he’d had someone there at night. No. Only three years. Hannah had been there much longer before then, when they were young, when they were just married, when they saved up for their house and bought it, when she had laid beside him for nine months with their son getting bigger inside her. But the three years seemed so long. 

“Do you have to leave?” he asked Segundus. 

“Not really.” 

“You could stay then, John. For a while, if you like.”

They rested with their heads together and after just enough time, John kissed him. 

 

Segundus had only been upstairs in their house once before, the night he had first come over with Jennifer and came to Sebastian’s room to read to him before bed. He had only met them a few weeks before, then. He had come as a friend, as a teacher. His apron had hung downstairs. He was here as John’s boyfriend now, coming up to his bedroom holding his hand. It was another change for the night, another way he was here like he had not been before, another testing of the waters. 

He and John climbed the stairs together and went to his his room now, a place Segundus had never been inside of before. It was a large room with a large bed, window covered by white curtains with a subtle flower pattern in a different shade of white. It was a neat room. John had made the bed that morning, pulled the sheets back carefully, put pillows into place against the headboard. 

He followed John to the bed and the two of them were slow to start. Each movement came a with a pause, but then a nervous smile as they moved forward slowly. They had never been in a bed together, never been quite as alone as they were then, trying how things felt, trying how their bodies felt here, where they had space and freedom they had not before. John gave way to him, to his body and the suggestions it gave to his with touches and kisses. 

They didn't speak much of it when, after half an hour in bed, they separated before going too far and lay down side by side. 

Segundus waited for a sign that he should leave, thought in some ways he might be looking for one. But John reached out to him, placed a hand on his arm, and they looked across the pillow at one another.

“John?”

“Love,” he answered. 

The word felt safe to Segundus, felt like something he had been waiting for, something he was now. He was someone’s love. 

John Childermass closed his eyes. It was as much as invitation as anything had ever been and Segundus closed his too. Segundus was surprised at how easy it was to sleep, still wearing his jeans. But he slept and it was so warm next to John. 

 

The sun had just risen when Childermass woke in the morning. He hadn’t woken once during the night and the sensation of opening his eyes and realizing the night was gone took several seconds to comprehend. It had been a very long time since he’d slept through the night and to see the first light, to feel the warmth in the bed confused him at first. 

John was still asleep next to him, curled on to his side. His chest was bare and his mouth open a little in sleep. 

The first tears came before he knew they were there, long before he knew why he even cried, though he understood the reason soon enough, seeing another body on the side of the bed where only Hannah had ever been. The noise was more than enough to make John open his eyes. Childermass turned his whole body from him, but he could still see John from the corner of his eye, feel him moving in the bed. 

“John?” asked Segundus. He pushed the covers back from himself and sat up. He had a way of saying John as a question tenderly that made Childermass wish desperately he wasn’t crying, wish he felt differently about what had happened. But he didn’t. 

“Sorry-” 

“What is it?” 

He had never, until the moment he minded it very much, thought of what of having another person in the bed that had been his and Hannah’s would be like. It was nothing John had done; he had been invited, had always followed Childermass’ lead on these things. But it was a bed he and Hannah had bought when they moved here, had shared for years before she died, had laid in together with their infant son in the small time they had together as a family. It was Hannah’s bed and he had brought someone else to it. He couldn’t say how it was wrong, since he knew she was not there, knew in his mind that a bed was only a thing and not Hannah or their love, but it felt off in a way that nearly made him sick. 

“John, I…” Childermass said. He stared in front of him at the wall. “This was…”

In the sharpness of the quiet, one that Childermass swore he could hear and that sounded like ripping paper of all things, he realized that John understood. 

“I’ll leave then,” John whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Childermass turned then. John searched for his clothes, now fighting his own tears. 

“Can I explain?” 

“Yes.” John seemed for a moment a bit frantic but he inhaled deeply and calmed. “But...it’s okay. You don’t have to. I just think that maybe this is too much for us, after all. I don’t think we’re ready. I don’t think I’m ready.” 

He found his shirt and pulled it over his head and he would not look at him. 

“Are you saying that you don’t want to see me any more?” asked Childermass. John took a moment then to stop, to study his face. He quickly wiped away some of his own tears. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you. I would like nothing more than to see you. But I don’t we should. I don’t think this is good for anyone right now.” 

Stunned, Childermass waited for what came next, which was John leaning in and putting a light kiss on his cheek. 

“Please,” said Childermass. John let him hold his hand when he reached for it. “We don’t have to spilt over this, do we?” 

“John, it’s okay. You haven’t done anything wrong and I’m not angry at you. I still love you. Right now though…” 

John looked away, his eyelashes wet. He stood up from the bed. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. 

 

He woke to the sound of John crying and he knew. He knew before he opened his eyes and saw John hunched over, wiping at his face with the back of his hands. Somehow, he had gotten it wrong after all. After all Segundus had tried not to, he’d still hurt him. 

They had been careful. But maybe it was not possible to be careful enough, not with what they faced. 

John cried because he missed his wife, because things were changing, because he felt guilty. Segundus felt it too, to see John’s tears. He had come into Hannah’s bed and he had upset her husband being there 

It wasn’t a thing that he had thought about until then. He was only here because she wasn’t. John would, if were possible for him to choose, choose to have his wife and the mother of his son alive. If John could choose, she would be here and he would not. It wasn’t anything John could help and he knew that it didn’t mean John didn’t love him, but the thought hurt Segundus more than he thought anything could and he knew he would need time with it. 

It hurt him more than he thought anything could until he left John’s bedroom and stood alone in the hallway with the man he loved on the other side of the door.


	7. Sunday/Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the break up, the Johns each do their best to make it through the first few days.

A block or so from John’s house, Segundus gave up on riding his bike and sat down on the curb crying. He needed a way home. There was nothing for it. 

Taking still shaking breaths, he got out his phone. He thought he had collected himself enough that he wouldn’t worry Flora when he called, but he knew it wasn’t the case when he heard her voice. 

“John?” Her first word was groggy, but then Segundus thought that she woke instantly, spoke with much more clarity. “What happened? What’s going on?” 

In the background, Emma muttered as the noise woke her. Segundus knew it was early if she wasn’t up yet. A quick look to his phone told him it was hardly 6:00. He tried to respond to Flora’s question, but all he could do at first was cry more. 

“Can...can you come get me? Please?” 

Is he okay? Emma’s voice, clear now, louder as she moved toward Flora and the phone.

“We’re on our way,” said Flora. “Stay where you are.”

The sun was hot on his face and neck. Segundus rested his forehead on his knees and covered his head with his arms. A few deep breaths had him feeling more steady. One of John’s neighbors walked by with a small dog who stopped and sniffed at Segundus’ shoe as they passed. He remembered a dog barking the night before as they had eaten dinner in the back garden and wondered if this was the same one. 

It was over half an hour before the girls arrived in Emma’s car. Flora jumped from her seat when Emma stopped the car and ran to him. When she reached Segundus, she put her arms around him. The click of Flora’s shoes on the pavement as she approached and then paused to stand in front of them. The relief of having his friends there only made him cry harder.

“It’s okay,” Flora said, burying her face in his hair. “It’s okay, John.” 

He cried. Another pair of arms joined Flora’s and the girls held him. 

“Come on,” said Emma after several minutes. “Let’s go.” 

The three worked together to maneuver Segundus’ bike into the boot of the car. The neighborhood was still mostly quiet and there was no one to see them, but Segundus had rarely been so embarrassed in his life. He could still see John’s house and it was hard not to wonder what he and Sebastian were doing now, not to feel like he was in some way scrutinized even though there was no way anyone could know what had happened. When the bike was secure, Flora got in the back seat with Segundus and wrapped her arm around him as they drove away. 

“You need to eat and have a cup of tea and tell us what the hell happened,” said Emma to their reflections in the rear view mirror. She turned the car in the direction of one of their favorite spots in a move of finality on the subject. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Flora. “They’ve broken up.” 

“Well, yes, but after he didn’t come home last night this was not what I expected.”

“Me either,” said Segundus. He felt grubby, teeth unbrushed and in dirty clothes, and overwarm from sitting on the pavement for so long. His jeans had a long streak of bicycle grease along one leg as did his arm and he could see another on Flora’s; a long line of black cut through an illustration from her favorite childhood book tattooed there. The view outside the car window blurred. He had slept well last night, hadn’t he? Before the fiasco of the the morning, before standing outside John’s door alone listening to the silence of the house. 

In the restaurant, they sat together in a booth, Flora and Emma across from Segundus. Emma was right. Only a few sips of tea and he was steadier than he had been, his vision not so blurry from the tears. There was a deep pain starting at the front of his head though, spreading in a dull but persistent way that he knew would bother him the rest of the day. 

Flora and Emma sat quietly until the food came and Flora reached across the table to squeeze his hand. He had felt distinctly nauseated on the street and on the ride over, but as soon as he saw food, Segundus was ravenous. 

“Are you ready to talk?” asked Emma. Her long, dark hair had been pulled up before they left, arranged into a thick bun at the back of her head. Even with the clothes she had just thrown before leaving the flat and hair done quickly, she was well put together. 

“We…” 

Emma raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh.” 

“No, not that,” Segundus took a large bite of his toast. “We didn’t have sex. It was...oh, it was all wrong, all of the sudden. No, not all of the sudden.”

“And it’s really over?” asked Flora. 

Segundus nodded. He saw Flora and Emma turn their heads at the same time to look at one another. There was a subtle of movement of Emma’s hand under the table when she rested it on Flora’s knee. 

“Did he do something?” asked Emma. 

“No. It’s just not going to work, I think.” 

By the time the waitress came to collect the plates, the shock of breaking up, of leaving John crying in his room while he left the house and stumbled for his bike had worn off. The image, John’s back to him, the portion of the tattoo on his arm that Segundus could see with John turned away from him, stayed with Segundus. 

At home, Flora brought a blanket and her to the living room. The three spent the day on the couch watching movies. In the evening, he shaved and showered and went to his room with the vegan brownie Flora had run to his favorite bakery for and worked on lesson plans until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Segundus went to bed early and tried not think about the very small number of hours he had left until it was morning and John came to school to drop Sebastian off. 

 

The door shut and it was done. 

It was that easy, in the end, the finishing of it. John had left and Childermass was alone again. 

He did not have the luxury of crying for long. Sebastian began to make noise in his room only a handful of minutes after John left. He would expect his father because his father was always there when he woke. 

Childermas pulled on his shirt and left his lonely room to face the morning. 

There had been a few years after Hannah’s death he was too scared to leave Sebastian at night. Waking from sleep and not being able to see his son, to see his chest rise and fall with life and feel that he was there and warm, had sent Childermass deep into spells of anxiety. 

So, he'd kept Sebastian close and always known that he was safe. It was better now and Sebastian had been in his own room for a year. Childermass had built the bed himself, partly to ease his son back into being alone at night, partly to ease himself. Picking the pirate ship pattern, shopping for the materials, long afternoons in the back garden painting and hammering, baths where he had cleaned paint from under his son’s fingernails; it had given them time, weeks of watching the old routine slip away with this clear symbol of the new forming day by day.

He knocked on Sebastian's door and opened it. Sebastian lay on his back in bed, Jennifer hugged to him. Last year when they built the bed, he had looked so much smaller in it.

“Hey Dad.”

“You ready for breakfast?”

Sebastian yawned; a soft and slow thing that was half a smile. Everyone said that he and Sebastian looked alike, but his face first thing in the morning was his mother’s, Childermass knew.

“Yeah. I'm hungry.” 

Childermass walked to his son’s bed and sat on the edge. He thought of all the years with Sebastian he had gone alone before John, and all that were ahead of him now that he did not have a relationship with John any more. If he hadn’t known the thought that someone else might be there, he did not think the thought of what he faced would feel quite as painful as it did. He loved John and had imagined, in his quietest and most vulnerable thoughts, years with him, of an end to his time alone that he had not even known he craved. But his son smiled at him, a smile so like his mother’s, and he felt a little ease. They would be the family they had been for each other since Hannah died and that would not change. 

“It's Sunday,” said Sebastian. Under his blanket, long legs stretched. “Are we going to call Gran and Pops today?”

“You bet.”

Sebastian yawned again and moved closer to his father, put a flushed check against his knee. He fell back asleep and Childermass sat in silence, wondering how long he had until Sebastian asked about John. 

 

When Sebastian woke again, he and his father went downstairs and Childermass made breakfast while Sebastian read at the table. The tea Childermass drank while he cooked did little for his headache or to spark any energy in him and he mixed the batter without speaking while he listened to Sebastian. Soon, pancakes browned and sizzled in the pan on the stove. At the table, Sebastian set Jennifer next to him on the table and hummed to himself as he flipped through a book. He was happy, he said, that John had remembered to take the picture he’d drawn for him. 

Sebastian started to read aloud and Childermass was grateful to have the quiet broken and was soothed by his son’s voice, glad though that he read in English and not French where how Sebastian pronounced each word would remind of Segundus. 

Before Sebastian had even changed from his pajamas, he and Childermass curled up on the couch and made a phone call to Hannah’s parents as they did each week. 

He knew that his mother in law could tell right away that something was wrong. Childermass hugged his son and listened to him talk about the evening before and each word brought him back to the now dissipated happiness he had felt then. Sebastian told his grandparents about making pizza, about the drawing he had done just for John, about how he had drawn it with his right hand and John had said it was good. He went cheerfully through every detail. It would be impossible to tell Sebastian that there would be no more evenings with John, but he would have to. 

“Sebastian,” said Claire after a while. “I need to talk to your dad for a minute. Why don't you go get dressed and then come back down to say goodbye?”

Sebastian tilted his head back to look up at his father and Childermass nodded. Sebastian slid from the couch and went quietly upstairs. 

“John. What’s happened? You sound terrible.” 

“We spilt. He split with me.”

“Over what?” 

“Over….” 

How could he explain about the bed, about John sleeping in it, about crying and John scrambling for his clothes while he sat there trying to think of something to say to make him stay? How could he explain what it felt like to be on the other side of the door closing when John left? 

“I think he thinks I’m not ready for a relationship. It’s alright though, Claire. He did his best. And I can’t say he’s all wrong.”

“Have you told your son?” 

With his eyes, Childermass traced the path Sebastian had walked from the room. He slumped onto the couch. Only twelve hours ago, he had sat here with John and told him how tired he was. Not long after, he had lain in bed nearly asleep and called John his love. Now there was nothing but a new empty space in his life. 

“How can I?” 

“He’s going to ask,” said Claire gently. “And soon, knowing Sebastian.” 

“I know.”

“Do you need help?”

“I do. But I have to figure this out on my own, I think.”

The sound of Sebastian’s feet running down the stairs told him that the talk was over and he ended it with a quiet thank you to Claire as Sebastian came into the room. 

 

After lunch, Childermass and Sebastian walked to the library together and spend a good portion of the rest of the afternoon reading and picking out books. 

Sebastian, cross legged on the floor next to Childermass, pulled books from their places and flipped through them. 

“Dad,” he whispered. “All of the books are in English. Where can I get a French one? Like at school?”

“We’ll have to have to ask John,” Childermass said. The words were an instinct. It was so easy for him to think of John as part of Sebastian’s life as his teacher, to forget that whatever else he had been to them he was not that any more. Mentioning John was the easiest thing, but the sinking in of his name was not.

Sebastian nodded to hear his teacher spoken of. 

“Yeah,” said Sebastian, placing a book back in its spot on the shelf and pulled out another to peer at its cover without looking back at his father. “Teacher John will know. We’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“Sure, Seb,” said Childermass. 

They sat together for a while after that, Sebastian reading on a bright colored bean bag while Childermass watched him. He nodded at the other parents, made small talk when they sat down near him; how old Sebastian was, how tall, how well he read. Childermass, thankfully, was not asked about Sebastian’s mother, so he was spared the pained silence that followed when he had to tell a stranger that she had died. Childermass wanted nothing more than to be at home again, where he could relax. 

The walk home was warm. Sebastian asked to stop in the park and then if they could get fish and chips for dinner instead of cooking. Childermass said yes to all of it and they ate with their food spread out on the coffee table in the living room, watching Sebastian’s favorite television show. 

The evening, though still bright, dwindled. It would soon be time to get Sebastian ready for bed and Childermass knew that he should tell his son what had happened with John. The morning, when he would drop Sebastian off at school with his now ex-boyfriend for the day, was an unspoken deadline. It had to happen before then. Sebastian would know when he saw them together in the morning, if he did not already before then, that something had changed. Childermass switched off the television. 

“Hey, Seb. I need to tell you something.” 

“What? It is what Gran wanted to talk to you about this morning?” 

“It is.” Childermass paused. He knew he should do it, say what he needed to say. The words to tell it seemed both tauntingly simple and inaccessible. “It’s about John.”

He took another breath and in the time it took him to do it, Sebastian, his body gripped in the tautness of fear, had started to cry and his shoulders shook. Childermass was, in the moment, stunned into silence. 

“Dad, what happened to Teacher John? Is he okay?”

“Oh, god, Seb. Seb, come here.” Childermass pulled his son into his lap. His hair still smelled of the afternoon outdoors, like the warmth of an hour in the sun. “John is fine. It’s just...Seb, it’s okay. You don’t have to cry.” 

Sebastian sobbed against Childermass’ chest for several minutes while he struggled, gripping his father’s shirt, to calm himself. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. John really is okay. You’ll see him in the morning, just like always.” 

Minutes later, Sebastian stopped crying and looked up at his father.

“What’s going on?” 

“John and I…Seb, we won’t be seeing each other any more. And John won’t come visit again. But nothing has happened to him. We broke up.”

Sebastian sighed and put his cheek against his father’s chest again. 

“Dad, I don’t like it.” 

“I know. Me either, Seb. But it’s okay. He’s still going to be your teacher .”

He still loves you, Childermass thought. John had said it last night, that he loved Sebastian. Should he tell him? Trying to figure out a relationship with John had been so easy compared to not having one suddenly. 

But as his father held him, Sebastian fell asleep. For an hour Childermass did not move but sat with Sebastian against him and he let his mind fall empty of anything but that; of being there with his son. He took Sebastian upstairs without waking him and carefully changed him into his pajamas after laying him in bed. 

When he went back downstairs to clean up from dinner, Childermass looked at his phone for the first time in hours. There was a text from John. 

Goodnight. I'm really sorry.

He stared at the phone until his vision clouded with tears. He dropped the phone to the couch and he cried.

 

Segundus woke to the smell of tea. He opened his eyes and Emma stood next to the bed, dressed for work. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. 

“I’ve been better. The headache is mostly gone though.” 

Segundus sat up and took the tea from her and Emma joined him on the bed. Segundus drew his knees to his chest and held his tea close. 

“This was a bad one, wasn’t it?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” 

A bit of his hair had grown out over his ears and Emma reached over and tucked it back. 

“You could always take a day. Call someone in to take your class. Flora would stay with you, I know.” 

“No, no. I don’t want to do that. Another day isn’t going to change anything. I’m still going to love him and this relationship is still not going to be a good idea.” 

“Well, if it helps, I think you did the right thing, what it took not to hurt John or his kid. You guys didn't break up because one of you wronged the other. You broke up because you cared that it ended before it got there.”

It helped only a little. Segundus had not gotten to say anything to Sebastian and it nagged at him that there was no real way to avoid the damage that had caused. Emma sat with him while he finished his tea. 

“Want a lift? I can wait for you to get dressed.” 

“I think a bike ride will do me good. Thanks though.” 

Emma wrapped an arm around him in a loose hug before leaving him to dress. 

The ride did do him good after all, though he arrived later than normal and felt he had eyes on him from the moment he came in. Segundus set up the classroom in quiet and arranged the students’ morning snack as quickly as he could. 

As the children arrived, Segundus became tense, waiting for John and Sebastian to come in at any moment. He knew how important it was for Sebastian that they get this right, the two of them, and he was anxious; anxious to have it done, anxious of the doing of it. Segundus greeted everyone who came in, listened to the children’s stories about the weekend and guided students to the morning activities. John and Sebastian did not show.

The children moved into the classroom for their morning meeting and Sebastian still had not showed. 

The class made a circle on the carpet and Segundus joined them. He led the children through the plan for the day like he always did and they sang a few songs. Halfway through one, the door opened and John and Sebastian came inside. Sebastian’s hair was still drying, wet curls against his forehead. 

John lifted his hand to up slightly in a wave and Segundus did the same. He looked tired, Segundus thought. They both did.

Sebastian stared into the classroom straight at him. He stopped where he stood, clutching his father’s left hand. John knelt down next to him to tell him something. Sebastian threw his arms around his father’s neck and Segundus realized then that Sebastian was crying. Segundus and Childermass met eyes over Sebastian’s shoulder and didn’t break away for several seconds. 

Segundus had stopped singing with the class and the children stared at him and a few turned to look back at what happened at the door. 

“I’m sorry,” said Segundus to the class, breaking suddenly into English from French. “Wait one moment. I’ll be right back.”

By the time Segundus reached them, John had stood again and Sebastian hung back at the door, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his green cardigan. 

“I’m going to take him with me today,” said John. “He’s...not well.” 

Segundus looked over at Sebastian who had his eyes on the floor. 

“John. John, I’m so sorry. I never meant-” 

“He’s okay. It was just a shock, when I told him. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

“John.” 

Segundus reached up and put a hand on his elbow. 

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” said John again. He turned and picked up and son and when they left, Segundus watched the closed door until the sound of children talking in the classroom drew him back. 

 

Norrell’s jaw dropped when Childermass walked in with a child in his arms. 

“John?”

“Gilbert, If you want me today, you get Sebastian too.” 

Childermass did not say anything else as he pulled up a chair for Sebastian and brought over paper and pencils for him. 

“You’ll have a good day here, Seb. Why don’t you write a story for me while I get started on some work for Mr Norrell?”

“Okay,” said Sebastian. “About anything?” 

“Anything at all.” 

Sebastian picked up the pencil and slowly began to began to write a few words. 

“Doesn’t he have school?” asked Norrell. Sebastian lifted his eyes Norrell, who gave a small jump in his chair at being the sudden recipient of his attention.

“Yes, but he’s not going today.” 

“But why?”

“Can we please not talk about this now?”

Norrell was on the verge of protesting, Childermass could tell by the slightly open gap of his mouth and his lifted eyebrows, but he eventually looked away from Sebastian and back to his work. During the morning, Norrell occasionally peered around his computer at Sebastian, who continued to sit mostly in silence, only occasionally pulling at his father’s sleeve to show him something or ask him how to spell a word. 

At lunch time, Childermass stepped out for half an hour to pick up lunch with his son and when they came back, he set Sebatian up in Norrell’s kitchen with the door open. 

“John, what’s going on?” asked Norrell. He turned his head to look at Sebastian pulling apart his sandwich. “Why did you bring your son with you?”

“There was a bit of an upset. He wanted to be with me.”

He stopped short of reminding Norrell that this was the first time it had ever happened. 

“Is he ill?” 

“No, he’s not.” 

Childermass looked pointedly back to his screen. 

“Why won’t you tell me what’s happening?”

Childermass took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he thought of what to say or if he felt like telling his boss much of anything at all about his breakup. Sebastian was busy with his food and not watching or listening.

“He’s feeling sad because I broke up with John. Or John broke up with me, actually. Anyway, we’ve broken up.”

Norrell did not immediately respond with anything but tapping a lone key on his keyboard and then waiting for an explanation. 

“My boyfriend. John. Seb’s teacher. We’ve been seeing each other for two months. Had been seeing each other for two months.” 

Norrell’s eyes darted for the door like he searched for a physical escape from the conversation. His fingers at the keyboard twitched. 

“Oh,” said Norrell. He cleared his throat. “Well.” 

“It wasn’t a good morning. He’s feeling better though, I think.” 

Childermass resumed his typing and almost didn’t hear that Norrell spoke again, two single quiet words. 

“And you?”

Childermass stopped his typing instantly. At his computer, Norrell dipped his head.

“I’m...coping. I have to. I don’t really want to talk about it though.”

Norrell turned away, slowly tapped another key. 

“Thanks though,” said Childermass. 

Childermass looked back up into the kitchen. Sebastian had stopped eating with most of his sandwich still left and sat in the overlarge chair, Jennifer hugged to his chest. He should have thought that watching Sebastian lose John would hurt twice as much as losing him for himself did, but he had never thought of it ending until it had. 

“I think what there’s left to do today you could do from home.” 

“Huh?” asked Childermass. 

“Or later. Perhaps.” 

Norrell had started typing again, but Childermass took his cue and turned off his computer. 

“Come on, Seb,” he said. Let’s go.”


	8. What To Do With The Pictures.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Childermass and Sebastian take time for themselves after the breakup.  
> Segundus helps plan his flatmate's wedding.  
> There is vegan cake.

The day was endless. 

At lunch, Segundus drug himself to Honeyfoot’s office to let him know what had happened. It was a quick meeting, quiet. He didn’t think that Honeyfoot was disappointed, but it was hard to tell because Segundus was so embarrassed that he could scarcely look at Honeyfoot as he told him that he and John had broken up. Segundus stumbled through the explanation, unsure of what details he should give to explain what had happened, what might embarrass John if Honeyfoot were to know. He finished speaking feeling dizzy, suddenly in a room too quiet for his comfort.

“I’m sorry,” said Segundus. “I messed up.” 

“It doesn’t sound like it, John. Not really. These things happen. But I am worried that Sebastian isn’t here today. I'm worried what this means for their future at our school.”

“Me too,” said Segundus. He was shaken still by Sebastian’s crying, his eyes fixed to the floor in an effort not to look at him. He thought he had felt as guilty as he ever would when he left John on Sunday morning, but this was worse. It had been what he had feared going into the relationship; Sebastian being hurt by something he did. 

Honeyfoot sighed. Segundus listened to him move some papers on the desk. 

“We’ll see what happens, hey? Deal with things as they come to us. But thank you for coming to talk to me.” 

Segundus did all that he could, which was nod. He was sure he might start crying again at any moment thinking of John and Sebastian and he did not want to do that.

“Really, John,” said Honeyfoot when Segundus was at the door. “You’ve done fine.”

Segundus ate a few bites of lunch in the kitchen after leaving Honeyfoot’s office but had hardly any appetite. Thankfully, no one else came in and he had the half hour alone to try his hardest and think of nothing at all. When the children were gone home at the end of the day, he spent a long time cleaning the classroom just for the quiet of being alone in the school. He opened the windows to let in fresh air and moved the shelves to vacuum and then took each toy off them to wipe down. He finished the cleaning exhausted, but it was a welcome feeling. Being tired pushed away everything else. 

He went to Sebastian’s cubby before turning off the lights; there was still a rain jacket in there, a red one with yellow buttons and a pair of small, white socks. There was as well a photo of Sebastian and John at what looked to be a table at a cafe on a street in Paris. In the picture Sebastian sat in his father's lap, holding the phone in front of him to take the crooked picture. Sebastian had written his full name on the back: Sebastian Juniper Marvell-Childermass.

When Segundus finally left, he was surprised to see Flora waiting outside the school, leaned against the bike rack and busy texting on her phone.

“Come on, kid. We’re going to have a drink,” she said. “And some crisps, I feel. I’m starving.”

“Why are you off work? It’s early for you to be done.” 

“I took off to make sure you don’t go home and cry. Besides, there is a ton of wedding stuff to do and my aunt has been calling me all day. I need this as much as you.”

Flora linked arms with him and began walking Segundus toward the pub down the street from the school. There was no energy left to protest and besides, thought Segundus; he was happy to see his friend waiting for him, to know that he would not go home to be by himself after all. 

It was warm enough and sunny enough to sit outside and they brought their beers to a table in the front of the pub. Flora sat cross legged on the bench, her face to the setting sun. 

“How did it go?” she asked. 

“It didn’t, really. Seb didn’t want to be left with me. He cried and John took him for the day.” 

“Shit.” 

“I know. I feel terrible.” 

Flora noticed a couple at another table looking at them and switched to French when she spoke again. 

“Well, sure, but should you have stayed just for Sebastian when you don’t think John is ready?” 

“No,” muttered Segundus. 

They finished the first drinks and Flora went for a second round. While she was gone, Segundus checked his phone and saw a missed call and voicemail from John. 

 

Childermass decided before he and Sebastian got home that when they did, he would buy tickets to Wales. It was what he and his son needed; a few days with their family and the comfort of not being alone.

He got Sebastian a snack when they arrived to the house and sat with him at the table while he ate. Sebastian, picking at his bag of crisps, still had an air of sadness and disinterest about him. He took only small bites of his food and mostly played with the necklace of wooden beads he wore that had once belonged to his mother. 

“Hey,” said Childermass. “What do you think of leaving in the morning to go see Gran and Pops for the rest of the week?” 

Sebastian smiled for the first time that day. 

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, love. So, you want to go?” 

Sebastian threw his arms around his father and hugged his neck tightly. 

“I do, Dad. I miss them. And I like Wales.” 

Childermass phoned his in-laws then to put the idea to them, but he knew what the answer would be. Sebastian cried when he heard his grandmother say that she would see him tomorrow. Childermass ordered pizza for their dinner and booked the tickets while they ate. Before Sebastian’s bath, they packed their bags together, folding clothes and putting them into the suitcase on Childermass’ bed. Sebastian ran back and forth to his room bringing clothes and giving them to his father and then he began to bring in the few toys he wanted to take with him.

“Two books only, Sebastian,” Childermass called. “We’re coming back on Sunday.”

When Sebastian was changed into his pajamas and his story read to him, Childermass sat with him in his dim room. Putting Sebastian to bed had been such a calming time for him since Hannah’s death, the quiet, the softness of everything from the lights to his only child’s fresh washed hair. At first it was only for that, for the peacefulness of it that he sat, but as he watched his son, he felt he must ask a question that had been with him since that morning at school.

“Seb. Are you mad at John?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“That’s okay. But...I’m not mad at him, alright? I want you to know that. He didn't do anything wrong and I'm not mad.”

“Alright,” said Sebastian. 

Childermass switched off the lamp by the bed and left Sebastian to fall asleep. 

The quiet of the house was different tonight. On Saturday, a potential future had been there; one with a third person in it, with John’s voice added to theirs. This quiet was the absence of that future and it was not easy for Childermass to go into. Funny, he thought, that it was the same as it had always been, him and Sebastian, and so different as well. 

Downstairs, Childermass made himself a cup of tea and took it and a pack of cigarettes outside to phone John. He wasn't sure at all that he should, but if nothing else, he needed to explain Sebastian’s absence from school for the rest of the week. He sat down on the small garden patio with his back against the sun warmed wall. John didn’t answer and Childermass wasn’t sure at first what he should do, but after listening to John’s greeting, being brought nearly to tears by the sound of John’s voice, he stumbled into a message, taking puffs of his cigarette as he spoke. 

“It’s me. Sorry about this morning, John. I...understand. I wish things were different, that I was different, but I understand you. I just wanted to say that. Anyway, John. We won’t see you until next week, it turns out. I’m taking Seb to Wales for a few days. I think it’s the best place for us right now. But I’ll see you next Monday. We’ll see you. Bye, John.” 

He hung up and set the phone down. 

Childermass sat outside smoking in silence for over an hour. There had been no clouds that day and the night sky was clear, the breeze only beginning to cool. There were too many lights to see them clearly. And the street was still noisy; he could hear the neighbor’s television through their open window. It would be better in Wales, he thought. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. It had been years since he had so many cigarettes and his mouth felt terrible after half a pack, his head worse. 

Childermass put his head down against his knees and coughed. He was tired and it was time for bed, early as it was. There was a train in the morning. He showered when he got inside and went to bed. He had had only spent one night next to John but he still felt in him that he was counting down away from that as he pulled the covers over himself. Two nights without John.

He hadn’t done that since Hannah. He rolled over onto his back, looked up at the ceiling. He hadn’t kept a record of a person’s absence like this since the night he’d gone to bed for the first time without his wife. But there it was. 

Two nights without John. 

 

“Oh, fuck.”

Segundus stared at the phone in horror until Flora returned with the beers. 

“What happened?” 

Flora set the beers on the table and he played the message back for her. 

“Was I really so terrible that he's taken his son and left the county?”

“It’s Wales, John.” said Flora. “A determined person could get there walking. It’s not like he’s gone to New Zealand.” 

“He has left the country.” 

Flora pushed his beer toward him. The tiredness that had been so welcome earlier overwhelmed now and he could think only of sleep, of ending this very long day. He rubbed at his eyes and put the phone in his pocket so he didn’t have to think of the message any more. 

“It’s alright,” said Flora. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Have a drink and try to relax.” 

Segundus took a breath and picked up his beer. He wanted to call back, but he knew he shouldn’t. John clearly wanted space and was taking it. He took the first sip of his second beer and Flora did the same.

“Home after this?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’ll cook when we get in, okay? I know I’m terrible but it’s the least I can do. You'll likely survive this one time.”

“Thanks.” 

They’d had too many drinks for cycling home, they felt, so after leaving the bikes at the school’s bike rack, Flora and Segundus walked to the bus stop and caught the bus home. Segundus felt himself dozing in the seat and when they got home, he lay down and listened to Flora in the kitchen getting things from cabinets and then the sizzle of something on the stove. Segundus fell asleep on the couch while Flora cooked and she didn’t wake him.

 

The next Segundus was aware, he opened his eyes to a dark and quiet apartment. It was, according to his phone, almost 2:00 AM. There was a plate on the table for him and he brought it to the couch. Segundus ate the cold pasta in the dark, reading through his and John’s old text messages. Just last week, only five days ago in fact, John had sent him texts from work about something funny that had happened with his boss. They'd followed with one telling Segundus how much he missed him and looked forward to the weekend. 

For now, he thought, he was done crying. But the messages sent an ache through him that that shocked him with its depth and strength.. Only days ago, he'd had this; a message to see at lunch time and make him smile. He'd had a part of John’s day. John had thought of him and spent a moment to tell him that he did. He’d had John’s future too; weekends to plan, the hope of more time together always there. He wished more than anything in that moment that he had more to look forward to, more with John. Segundus locked the phone screen and put his plate in the sink before going to his room.

 

Childermass woke up when it was still dark and dressed before going in to wake up Sebastian. He switched on the lamp next to the bed and Sebastian stirred and mumbled in his sleep but didn’t wake. It was a moment that Childermass was hit with the thought of how much Hannah had missed; how many mornings, how many times going into their son’s room and seeing him still asleep he’d had now without her. Sebastian had changed so much since the day she died, had a smile with gaps from lost teeth, had a scar on his knee from a fall she had not seen happen. He would only keep changing, becoming each day less and less the baby his mother had known.

Sebastian was still tired and fussed as his father sat him up and helped him change, but by the time he was brought down stairs for breakfast, he had woken enough to remember where they were going and he cheered up. 

Once in the cab to the train station, Sebastian was quickly asleep again and Childermass carried him inside when they arrived, trying not to wake him as he held him with one arm and pulled the suitcase with the other. Childermass stood in line for coffee, Sebastian asleep against his shoulder and breathing lightly. 

“Need a hand?” 

Childermass turned to see a man about his age, also with a child, standing in line behind him. This man’s daughter was a few years older than Sebastian, holding a book and standing close to her father.

“Sure,” said Childermass. 

 

The man stepped out of line and took hold of the the handle of the suitcase. They only spoke enough for Childermass to tell him where he was going and thank him for his help. 

When Childermass finally sat down, placing his son next to him leaned against his right side, he felt just as tired as he was sure Sebastian was. 

A woman sitting across from them smiled at Sebastian. After years of being a father, Childermass could count on the conversation he was about to have, could time it to the word. He had been worn down by the last few days, however, and could hardly face the thought of it now, not while sitting on a hard chair train, under the harsh lights. 

“What a sweet boy,” the woman said. “How old?” 

“He was five in March.” 

“He’s so tall!” 

Childermass was tired, felt the new layer of sadness was heavy on him, but the woman was kind. 

“He’s…yeah, I have to buy him new clothes every other week it seems.”

The woman gave a small smile in return and Childermass picked up his phone. He intended to text Norrell but instead, he opened a photo hardly a week old, that John Segundus had taken of himself on his phone. 

He hadn’t decided yet what to do with the pictures of John. 

The photos were a catalog of the passing months; John’s hair a bit longer from the first of them to the last, a scattering of freckles that grew from the start of the sunny months only a few weeks ago. Childermass hadn’t realized how many pictures he had taken when he was taking them, but now, looking back on them as a finished collection of their time together, there seemed to be so many. Should he delete them? He did not want to. Keeping them was just as much of a problem, in truth. It was what he would do for now, though. The photos still made him happy, the memories attached to them helped ease away from the the relationship. 

While he scrolled through the pictures, a text from John; 

Enjoy Wales. Say hello to Seb from me when he’s ready. I really miss the two of you.

He heard John’s voice say the words, could see his worried frown when he mentioned Sebastian. God, not being with someone you loved was a special pain, thought Childermass. And one he knew too well. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He would respond later, after a rest. 

When the train came, Childermass gathered up his son and their suitcase and found them a place to sit.

Sebastian woke halfway to Wales. They ate sandwiches for lunch and when the train arrived, their family was waiting for them. 

 

“Do you want me to cut your hair again?” asked Flora. 

She and Segundus sat in front of their coffee table with her computer in front of them, scrolling through the options for wedding invitations. Each had a slice of the vegan cake Segundus had baked earlier sitting next to them, and a mug of tea. 

“I don’t know. Do I need it?” 

“You still look cute, but I thought you might want it, maybe. You know, a bit of a change.”

“I think I’ve had enough change already for this week,” said Segundus. 

“Sure. Fair enough.” 

Flora closed the computer unexpectedly and Segundus jumped. 

“I’ll do this with Em when she gets home.” Flora stood, cake crumbs falling from her lap to the floor. “I want you to come with me to see something.” 

“To see what?” 

“The dress! Or mine. Emma’s got one too, I’m guessing. I found it last week, but I haven’t shown anyone yet and I’ve been sitting on this for days. Let’s go.” 

Flora held out a hand and Segundus let himself be pulled to his feet. 

They biked together several blocks in the warm early summer evening, Flora just ahead leading the way and Segundus following. She stopped outside of upscale consignment shop whose windows were dark. 

Flora jumped off her bike and took Segundus’ hand to pull him to the window. 

In the window, a mannequin with a slightly askew black wig wore a short, sleeveless red dress covered with beaded fringe. 

“It looks like something out of The Great Gatsby,” said Segundus. 

“It is!” said Flora. “Or not really, of course, but it is from the 20s. From America, too. It’s mine from tomorrow. But you can’t tell Emma, okay. She doesn’t know what I’m wearing and I don’t know what she is. We’re very old fashioned like that.” 

“It’s beautiful,” said Segundus. He squeezed her hand. “And you’ll look great. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. And what are you going to wear, Mr Best Man?” 

“I…” 

He had asked John to go with him. The girls had already said yes. He and John had talked about it one night while taking a walk; an overnight sitter for Sebastian maybe, a hotel room for the two of them to have a night alone after. John had leaned in to whisper in his ear, plans for the two of them for a whole evening by themselves that had made him blush and laugh. Realizing that none of that would happen nearly brought back the tears he was so sure he had finished with days ago. 

“A suit,” Segundus eventually muttered. “You’ll take me to find one?” 

“Of course.”

They stood outside the shop together for several minutes, quiet. A few people passed on the street while they stood looking in the window. 

“You know this will all be okay, huh, John?” asked Flora. “John’s going to come back from Wales and Sebastian is going to love you just as much as ever once the shock wears off.” 

Segundus wanted to tell her that even though it would be fine that it would not be the same, that none of it would be the same any more. He would see John and they would talk, but John would never take another picture of him on a walk through the park, or kiss him in the back of his car on a warm night, or lay together with the windows open while John traced the tattoo on his ankle after discovering it by accident on a lazy exploration of his body. But Segundus was quiet, not wanting to ruin Flora’s happiness over her wedding dress. 

“We can go home,” said Flora. “Get a start on dinner for when Emma comes home. Thanks for coming with me. You’re a good best man.”

Segundus followed her back to the bikes. 

They stopped at one of the shops near their apartment and chose ingredients for dinner. The familiar routine, walking through the store and choosing vegetables, the easiness of talking to Flora, put his mind off he and John no longer going to the wedding together. 

Try to be happy, Segundus told himself. Flora chatted to distract him, told a story about a client at her salon, another about a work friend. Segundus pulled himself into the conversation with some effort. He was lucky, he knew, to have good friends, to have an evening with Flora to look forward to and to Emma coming home. 

Flora linked arms with him again as they left the store and put their groceries in the baskets of their bikes. 

 

Sebastian was happy. 

Childermass lay in bed listening to his son downstairs with his grandparents, making breakfast and talking more than he did to almost anyone else. Besides John, was the unfinished thought. Sebastian had always loved to talk to John. Childermass shut his eyes again, heard a laugh carry up the stairs. He smelled the food cooking, coffee as well. Because Seb was happy, he could relax. He let go when he was here, something there was rarely the chance to do. There was so little noise at his in-laws’. It was such a natural place to find a bit of peace.

He lay in bed until there was a knock on the door. 

“Hey, Dad. Wake up. I made breakfast.” 

“Come on in, Seb.” 

Sebastian opened the door and ran to the bed, jumping in next to his father. He was already dressed, his long hair brushed and neat. And Sebastian smiled so much. He had all week. Childermass thought that he owed Claire and Paul a lot of thanks. 

As he settled onto the bed, Sebastian continued to grin. Childermass had been keeping a careful watch on his son’s smile this week, sure that there might be another lost tooth any day. His thoughts went to John in the moment; Sebastian has lost his first tooth at school and when Childermass had come for his son, the tooth had been in an envelope waiting. John had told him how brave Sebastian had been and it had meant a lot to Childermass that when his son was scared, someone had been there to comfort him. Even when he was not there, it seemed, John was. Sebastian crossed his legs and sat on the bed next to his father. 

“How long have you been up?” Childermass asked. 

“I don’t know. It was sunny though. I read my book till I heard Gran.” 

“Which book is that? One you brought with you?” 

“No, one of Mum’s from her shelf.”

Sebastian was so proud that Childermass wished the moment was not such a bittersweet one for him.

“And what have you made for breakfast?” 

“Gran taught me eggs. Come on, let’s go eat.” 

Sebastian tugged at his arm and Childermass let himself be pulled to the edge of the bed. 

Hannah lived still so much in the house where she had grown up. He was glad that Sebastian could have it; a place where there were pictures of her when she was young, a place with her old toys in boxes in the attic, a place where people spoke like she had spoken. 

“Ah, good morning John,” said Claire when they walked into the kitchen. 

“Morning.” 

He poured himself a cup of the coffee that Claire had made, added plenty of sugar and milk before taking it to the table. Sebastian had brought a plate of eggs and bacon and sat it in front of an empty chair that Childermass pulled back for himself. Sebastian brought another plate back to the table for himself and sat next to his father. With great effort, he picked up his fork with his right hand and took a careful bite. 

“Hey, Dad. Dad. Pops wants to take me out today. He says we can get lunch too since it’s the last day. Can we go?” 

“Sure. I need to answer some emails from Mr Norrell this morning anyway.” 

“How is he dealing with you being gone?” asked Claire as she came to the table with them. 

“Surprisingly well,” said Childermass. “But I think he’s reaching the end of his capacity for not having me there.” 

Childermass reached over and helped Sebastian, who still used his right hand to eat, lift a fork full of food to his mouth. 

It was Saturday. They would leave tomorrow morning. In less than forty eight hours, he would be dressing Sebastian for school and taking him to see John. 

After Sebastian left with his grandfather for the day, Childermass cleaned up the breakfast dishes for Claire and then took his computer to the living room, where he sat answering emails for the morning. Claire had gone out with friends and he had the house to himself. When he’d gone through all of the emails, he made himself a sandwich and ate at the kitchen counter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such quiet. It must have been fairly recently in the scheme of things as his son was hardly five, though the time when Hannah was there with him and before they were parents seemed unimaginable now, like something he must have dreamed or another man must have lived. 

He left the plate on the counter to take care of later and went upstairs. 

The room Sebastian stayed in when they visited was the one Hannah had lived in as a girl. The bed was not the same; Claire and Paul had bought one for Sebastian and put away Hannah’s after her death. The rest, however, was hers; books on the shelf she’d read as child, much faded curtains she’d picked out years ago, decades ago. A ribbon won at school pinned to the wall; a sticker on the back of the door that had lost all its color and was only now a grubby, white shape slightly peeling away. 

Childermass sat, until he heard Claire come back home, in the room where Hannah grown into the woman he’d known and now the room her son slept in when he came to visit. 

“John?” 

“Up here,” he called. 

Quiet footsteps on the stairs and Claire was soon in the door. 

“Are you doing alright?” she asked. 

“I am. Thanks.” 

Claire walked into the room and sat next to him on the bed. 

“Seb really loves being being here,” said Childermass softly. Another look at the ribbon hanging on the back of the door. The year it had been won was gilt print that long ago begun to peel but was still easily read. Quick math told him she’d won it when she was nine. 

“He does. And I’m glad he does. But England is his home.” She let a comfortable quiet grow between them. “You should talk with Sebastian again about John before Monday.” 

“I know. But what do I say? He’s not going to understand that me still grieving his mother is perfectly fine but also a very good reason for John and I not to be together.” His head fell forward a bit. “I can hardly explain two people who love each other not being together to myself.” 

“Oh, John, if you love him so much then go back for him. Give it another shot. You’ll never stop loving Hannah, you’ll always have been married to her first, but you and he can work that out.” 

“What about Sebastian?” 

“I think he deserves to see you happy and in love. I think he deserves to see you take a chance. But you’re his father. You know him best and what’s best for him.” 

Claire patted his knee. 

“I'll leave you, John. But I did wonder if you when you pack tonight you might not want to take some of Hannah’s books with you for Sebastian. He's old enough for them now and seems to be enjoying them.” 

“We’d love that, Claire. Thank you.”

“Her things are yours, yours and Sebastian’s, as much as they're ours. You only ever need to say.”

She did not shut the door when she left. Childermass only stayed for a few more minutes before joining her downstairs.

 

Eight days since breaking up with John Childermass was two months before Flora and Emma’s wedding. The living room was full of paper flowers that the girls and Segundus had been making dozens of each night. There were a variety of colors in piles and boxes around the room; deep purples and golds and a sherbet like pink. Other decorations had started to appear as well; a large bolt of off-white silken fabric propped against one wall, Emma’s sewing machine on the table in front of the couch. 

Emma was awake early and when Segundus came out of his room she was putting the finishing touches on the first completed centerpiece; a small wire frame with the paper flowers attached. 

“What do you think? I thought I’d surprise Flora when she woke up. She’s been dying to get started on these.”

“It’s beautiful.” 

Segundus got a loaf of bread from the cabinet and put two slices in the toaster while Emma twisted a last flower in place. 

“John texted last night,” he said. 

“Oh.” Emma adjusted a gold flower and looked up at him. “What did he say?” 

“See you in the morning. Seb says hello. He wants to read ‘The Little Prince’ in French.” 

“Well that’s good. You’ll have to tell Flora about ‘The Little Prince’. You know she's his biggest fan. Did you say anything back?” 

“That I’d missed them.”

Segundus’ toast popped up and he put it on a plate and came to the table with Emma. 

“You really have done well,” Emma said. “I know how much they meant to you. Mean to you.” 

“I’m glad they’re coming back. I’m glad Sebastian doesn’t want to go to a new school now. I’m really nervous though. I wish John and I had gotten to talk again before I needed to spend the day with Seb.”

“I want to hear how it goes. You’ll text me at lunch?”

Segundus nodded and ate a few bites of toast while Emma started to leisurely assemble flowers onto another wire frame. 

“Can you give me even the smallest hint about what Flora’s wearing?”

“Not a one,” said Segundus. “Besides, you’ll like the surprise.”

“This is why you are best man,” said Emma . She looked at the flower she had just put in place; a delicate pink one. “I can hardly sleep, you know. For being so excited about this. Not the wedding, really, though that’s nice too, but the being married.” 

“What’s it even like to have that to look forward to?” 

“A lot,” said Emma. She leaned back in her chair to look at the two centerpieces. “I should be off, John, but good luck.” 

“Thanks.” 

Emma went back into the bedroom to say goodbye to Flora and Segundus finished his breakfast. He had been so relieved to hear from John the night the before. He’d half expected to hear that Sebastian was too upset to return to school and that they’d be finding another place for him to attend, a place with a teacher who hadn’t broken his father’s heart. The mention of Sebastian wanting to read had been what really eased him. It had felt comfortable, like things might really have smoothed over during their time in Wales. Now that it was the morning of however, some of the anxiety had returned. 

Nerves made Segundus leave for school earlier than normal. He arrived with plenty of time to imagine every scenario for when Sebastian and John came in the door.

The time was too much in the end and he rearranged the classroom bulletin board with new photos of the class and their work to fill the time until the first students arrived. 

It wasn’t long before he saw them walk through the school doors; Sebastian holding his father’s hand. 

At the same time, all three looked for each other.


	9. Left Handed Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Childermass and Sebastian return from Wales and everyone tries to act cool.

Sebastian dropped his father’s hand. 

“Morning,” said Childermass. 

 

John was in his apron. Childermass had laid in bed that morning in the quiet of the time before Sebastian woke, taking a moment to look again at a few of his favorite pictures of John. There were none of John in his apron though and he had nearly forgotten how sweet John looked in it, faded and tattered as it was and the pouch filled with tissues and bandages. Of course he was in his apron, though; it was a school morning. John always wore it at school. 

“How was Wales?” John asked. Childermass was about to speak until he heard that Sebastian already had. 

“It was good,” said Sebastian. “Hey, Teacher John. Have you heard of a lady called Beverly Cleary?” 

“I have,” said John. 

“I started her Ramona book. Do you want to see?” 

Sebastian shrugged off his backpack and pulled out the tattered book. He opened to the page where he had stopped reading that he had marked with a bit of paper. . 

“See?”

“Well done,” said John. His dimples showed when he smiled. He looked so relieved to have Sebastian speaking to him cheerfully that Childermass wished they were in a more private place so he could tell John again it was alright, maybe put a hand on his arm. 

Sebastian put the book back in his backpack and zipped it closed. 

“I don’t want to share it. I’m keeping it here. It’s my mum’s book.” 

“We'll make sure it stays safe,” said John. 

Sebastian walked by himself to his cubby where he busied himself putting the backpack away. John ruffled the back of his hair, which nearly reached the collar of his shirt again, Childermass noticed. 

“Hi,” whispered John. 

“Hi. How was your week?” 

“It was okay. It’s good to see you two.” 

“Yeah. Seb really missed you.” He watched John’s fingers in his hair. His voice dropped when he spoke again, something just for him and John “I...uh, I did too. I felt bad, leaving things like I did, you know...” 

The door to the classroom opened and and a tall dark haired man with a set of twins, a boy and a girl who looked exactly the same and exactly like him, walked inside. John looked toward his other students and waved hello to them. The children grinned back. 

“I’ve got to go,” said John. “But have a good day. And I’ll see you this afternoon?” 

“Sure, sure. Of course. See you.” 

John turned to talk to the twins and their father and Childermass walked to Sebastian to tell him goodbye. 

“Bye, Seb.”

He leaned to kiss the top of his son’s head and Sebastian hugged him. 

“Later, Dad.” 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah. I really am.” 

Sebastian kissed his father on the cheek and let loose his arms from around his neck and Childermass stood. 

Before Childermass left, John waved again, a small wave at him as he spoke to the tall man who had come in with his son and daughter. He heard his son call out to a friend. The other child told Sebastian that he’d missed him while he was gone. 

It was, thought Childermass, so good to be home. 

 

Segundus said goodbye to the twins’ father and looked around for Sebastian after they had started into the morning’s work. Sebastian sat in the quiet corner of the classroom reserved for reading, a picture book in his lap. 

I won’t bother him, Segundus thought. And then, as he turned back to the other students; he looks a lot like his father just now, with his hair pulled back like that, frowning in concentration. Segundus always been fascinated by how much they looked alike, by the moments that could bring out their resemblance to one another more strongly. 

Painting was the morning’s activity and Segundus began to call children over to the table where the paints and paper and brushes were set out to begin. Sebastian stayed on his bean bag until it was his turn and then came to sit next to Segundus after pulling an over large tee shirt over his head to protect his clothes. Segundus reached over and rolled up the sleeves for him. 

“I didn’t do any painting all week while I was in Wales,” said Sebastian. 

“Well, do a nice big picture for your dad then, huh? He’ll like that.” 

Sebastian picked up a paintbrush and put it in the pot of green paint. 

“Using your left hand today, Seb?” 

“I still want to use both. Just today is a left handed day.” 

He quietly set to work on the picture, which soon became apparent was of his grandparents’ house. Segundus watched him for a while and then turned to another student. 

He didn’t have to worry. Sebastian was fine. 

 

Norrell was already working, drinking a mug of tea at his desk when Childermass came in. 

“Good, good,” he said. “You came back just in time. There has been a fiasco, John.” 

“I saw the email. I’ll get on it straight away.” 

Norrell nodded at his computer screen. He was not exactly calm, but he was rarely calm and no more so than usual for Childermass having been gone a week. Childermass switched on his computer and walked past Norrell’s desk to the kitchen, where he poured a mug of the waiting tea for himself and grabbed a handful of biscuits from the pack set out on the counter. 

“I see the place is still standing,” said Childermass as he sat down at his desk. Norrell continued to type.

“I lived here for quite some time before I hired you, remember. I even had a job and everything.” 

“So I’ve heard, Gilbert.” 

They had known each other for so long that the work started easily, without them needing to speak much as the morning passed. The keys on the keyboard clicked with each they typed, making a comfortable chatter. He finished his tea. 

Childermass felt well. He was not done with feeling sad over John yet, but he had done his best. He was back in a familiar place, doing a familiar thing. He was there and he worked through the ache of knowing that he and John were over. He let it be and he let it be part of him for the moment and accepted it as what was for the time time being. That, he supposed, was as strong anyone could hope to be.

 

Sebastian was one of the children who stayed awake during rest time. 

Once the other children were asleep, Sebastian got off his cot and went to his cubby, where he brought out the picture of him and his father he kept there and the book from his backpack. He lay back down with them, the picture by his head on his pillow. He read quietly while the other children slept. 

The blinds were shut tightly, but the room was still bright and warm. 

Segundus was halfway through his first day of having Sebastian back in class after the break up. It had gone better than he had hoped it could have. He thought he knew how much he had missed Sebastian and John, but seeing them again had made him realize how much he really had. 

During lunch, he texted the girls and told them that all was well. 

When he got back to the classroom after his break, Sebastian was still reading. He looked up when Segundus entered the room and as he always before, he smiled a little and then went back to his book. 

 

Childermass wasn’t worried about Sebastian at school. 

He never really had been, not since the first time he had seen how much his son care for John, but the morning had put him especially at ease. When Childermass came in at the end of the day, Sebastian was in the classroom, writing at a small table. He waved at his father but kept writing. John was at the coat hooks with the students on their way home and when he finished tying a small shoe, he stood and walked to Childermass. And it was easy, then, for Childermass; easy to see John, easy to go back into the routine, even as he felt something important had been taken from it now that he knew this time would be all that they had. 

“Did he have a good day?” he asked John. But he knew he had. It was one of the reasons he loved John; the peace he felt at leaving his son with him. 

“He did. It was really good to have Seb back. The class didn’t feel the same without him.” 

Childermass wanted to say again how bad he had felt about last week, about bringing Sebastian in when he was so sad, when he was still adjusting. He should have known, Childermass thought, should have kept Sebastian home in the first place after how upset he’d been over the news of the break up. He wanted to say that he wished they’d gotten to talk before he and Sebastian left for Wales. He wanted to say how good it was to see him. But he couldn’t say it. The room was full of the noise of the children and their families getting ready to go home at the end of the day. They were not alone and Childermass thought then that they might never be again. This was what they had from now on.

“Did he...did he eat well?” Childermass asked. “He didn't have much breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah,” said John. “He had a big lunch. And, uh, there’s a picture for you, hanging just there. He painted his holiday in Wales.” 

Next to where they stood, a little boy put on his shoes while his mother leaned down to help tie them. There was another child; a small baby in a jumper with ducks, asleep in a stroller. 

“Oh, that’s really good,” said Childermass. John hadn’t told him which picture was Sebastian’s, but he knew. 

“It is. Did you see you on there?” 

He was in his son’s painting, standing there next to the figure Sebastian had drawn that was himself. John walked to where the pictures hung and pulled down Sebastian’s to give to him. Again, Childermass thought how good it was to be home, to be talking to John at the end of a school day. Childermass took the picture from John’s hand as Sebastian came up to him and put his arms around his legs in a hug. 

“Hey,” said Sebastian. 

“Hey yourself. Ready to go?” 

Sebastian let go of his legs. He smiled his mother’s smile up at Childermass. 

“Do you like the picture?” 

“It’s great,” said Childermass. “Left handed?” 

“Left handed.” 

He hugged John too before they left, when John bent down to say goodbye. Sebastian threw his arms around John just like he did with his father and John hugged him back. They might have ended whatever future they had together, but Childermass was glad there was still this; his son caring for someone who cared for him. 

“Have a good night,” John said before they left. 

“You too, John.” 

He stood there at the door with Sebastian holding his hand for the span of a long held breath, and then, they left.

 

Segundus ate dinner alone that night. Flora was out with work friends and Emma had not come home yet, so he made himself a sandwich and turned on music. It was comfort music; happy pop songs the girls liked to tease him about from time to time. It felt good tonight to have happy music though. The day had gone so well and Segundus felt better than he had since the day he and John and broken up. 

Flora texted when she was on her way back and arrived home with a bag of his favorite biscuits. 

“Celebratory sweets,” she said, “because look at you, still here and smiling on top of it all.” 

Segundus took a few of the biscuits and Flora settled on the couch next to him. 

“It must have gone well,” she said. 

“It really did.” 

“Oh, John, I’m so pleased. You look like yourself again.” 

“I feel a bit like it too.” 

He hadn’t noticed until then how little appetite he’d had that day, up until he’d gotten home and it hit at last that John and Sebastian were back, back and happy to see him and really not going anywhere. Segundus was starving now.

He put on a movie while Flora made her own dinner and told her about how the day had gone. He could hardly think of things, of concrete things to say about what had happened; there was Sebastian with his book on his cot, there was that John wore the striped shirt he had worn on their first date. Those were things that had gone on, but it was more how he had felt at each moment. That was harder to explain.

It was a hot summer day when there wasn’t much summer left. Flora brought her dinner into the living room and ate while they watched the movie. By the time she put her plate in the sink, Emma was home and on the couch with them and the sun was nearly set. 

 

Sebastian helped him make their dinner that night and told him about the first day back at school as they made the sauce for the pasta. 

Sebastian’s picture was on the refrigerator, as bright as the evening and as green. Childermass could not stop glancing over at it from time to time. It was a joyful picture and that his son had made it brought him an immense amount of happiness. 

A small handful of chopped vegetables went into the pan as they cooked. 

“And I read another chapter of the Ramona book, too,” Sebastian said. He picked up another handful of vegetables and added them. “That was during nap time.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it over dinner.” 

But what he wanted to talk about was John, so Childermass listened. He had always known how important John was to his son but over the past week, they hadn’t spoken about him much, except for Saturday night in Wales when Childermass had talked to him again about the break up. The happiness in Sebastian’s voice as he spoke about his day with John, the small details of all that they had done together were a comfort. 

Sebastian carefully moved a bite of cut up spaghetti onto his fork. 

“Teacher John says he’l help me practice right handed painting tomorrow if I want.” 

“That’s great.” 

“But he also likes my left handed painting a lot. If I just want to do left handed that’s okay.” 

“He’s right, Seb.” 

“I am going to think about it.” 

They went for a walk after dinner to enjoy what was left of the summer. Sebastian fell asleep on the couch before his bath and Childermass sat next to him with his laptop while he slept, working for a few more hours. He was able to carry Sebastian up to bed without waking him and then decided he wouldn’t stay up any longer. It had been a busy day and Childermass was happy at how it had ended. 

He hadn’t lost the instinct yet to look at his phone before he went to sleep to see if John had texted, or to think of something to write himself about his day. Texting goodnight was something he still wanted to do. But there was nothing on his phone screen. He sent nothing himself. 

 

Saturday morning: Segundus and Flora and Emma still in their pajamas late. The windows were open and the living room was warm. 

The sink was full of syrup covered dishes from the pancakes they'd had at breakfast and Emma was at her sewing machine. It filled the room with a pleasant hum as she worked, sometimes fast and sometimes slow. The dress she altered lay half in her lap, a sleeve bunched under the needle. She peered at the stitches through her reading glasses as she moved the fabric in gentle turns. 

“So, John,” said Flora. She closed the magazine in her hands and turned over onto her side on the couch. The hum of the sewing machine stopped and the women looked at one another. “I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” asked Segundus.

“If you want a date to the wedding, I have some friends you can ask. You don't have to go alone if you don’t want to.”

Segundus looked up from his computer. He was arranging pictures of the class into a newsletter for the parents that he sent out each week. On the screen in front him was a collection of pictures of the students and the rabbit they had recently adopted as a class. 

“I don't know.”

“You don't have to. But it might be fun. You don’t have to, though, really. I just thought...”

“Either way is fine with us,” said Emma. 

“We just want you to have the choice. If you want.” 

He tried to think of it; of dressing on the day of the ceremony and having pictures taken with another man, of having those pictures forever be Flora and Emma’s wedding for him. He knew his answer. 

“I think...In my mind, it was John I was going with. I hadn't thought of going with anyone before I met him. I can’t imagine it being someone else now, having our night with someone else.”

“Then that’s fine,” said Flora. “That’s what you should do.” 

Flora gave his shoulder a squeeze picked back up her magazine. The hum of the sewing machine began again. Segundus went back to the weekly newsletter for the parents. 

They did not mention finding a date for again and Segundus knew that his friends understood. 

He had his outfit for the wedding now; a suit that hung on the back of his closet door. John would not see him in it, wouldn't meet him at the ceremony in a suit of his own, his long hair pulled back. Segundus would still enjoy the wedding, he knew, but as the morning went on and the dress in Emma’s lap slowly changed, he felt better and better about the choice to go alone. He would let the wedding be a last bit of saying goodbye to his and John’s relationship.

 

“Have you decided yet?” asked Claire. 

“Decided what?” 

“Oh, John. You know what I mean.” 

The sun had persisted into the weekend and it was a hot morning. Sebastian played outside already in the back garden while his father and grandmother spoke on the phone. 

“I’m not even sure John wants to get back together.” 

“Well, you never will know if you don’t ask.”

Things had gone so well during the week. There were small moments each morning and afternoon where he got to talk to John, where Childermass saw how well he did. It was comfortable, what happened between them twice a day in the entrance to the classroom. Those minutes at the start and end of each school day made him miss what they lost two weeks ago now, upstairs in his bedroom when he had cried and John and had left, but Childermass was grateful for them. He did not want to do something to disturb the ease he and John had gained with one another. 

“I’ll think about it, Childermass said. 

“Good. At least do that.” 

Sebastian came back inside to say goodbye to his grandmother and tell her about the game he'd created. He crawled into his father’s lap and he smelled of dirt and grass. When the phone call was over, he asked Childermass what they would do for the rest of the day. 

“Well, that depends. What do you want to do?”

“I want to learn to type. I want to type my stories that I wrote.”

“That's what we’ll do, then.”

He got his laptop out while Sebastian went upstairs to his room for one of his stories.   
They spent the morning on the couch, Sebastian slowly learning where to his fingers and hands on the keyboard and typed out a story he'd written at school over the week. He used a combination of English and French when he wrote, sentenced mixed with the two languages.   
After lunch, Childermass scanned some of the illustrations Sebastian had done and showed him how to add them to the document. 

“Can we print the story out, Dad? And go to the shop for a folder to put it in? It's a present for Teacher John.”

“We can do that.”

They took a walk to the shop close to the house and Sebastian picked out a folder. He decorated it while Childermass printed out the story, putting stickers on it and carefully writing out the title and his own name. 

His son had been happy in Wales and he was happy now, making something for a person that was special to him, to them. The conversation he’d had with his mother in law came back to him; talking to John about maybe trying again. 

Childermass wished that he could think there was nothing to lose by trying again with John, but he knew that was not the case. There was a world to lose, a world that existed in the few minutes at the start and end of each day when he saw John, a world where his son was happy and safe for hours each day at school. He knew it, but he found himself looking at his phone, beginning a text to John, a text to the babysitter, and then locking the screen and setting it down. 

“Seb. If Cynthia can come over, you wouldn’t mind staying with her for a few hours this evening, would you?” 

“No. Where are you going to go? She only comes over when you go out with Teacher John.” 

“I had something I wanted to talk to him, about, actually. In person if I could.”

Sebastian nodded. 

Childermass started dinner and texted Cynthia, who said she could be over an hour. By the time she arrived, Sebastian had eaten and was lying on the couch reading. 

“I shouldn’t be gone but a few hours, maybe. Sebastian, bed at 8:30 if I’m not home before then.” 

A last kiss to Sebastian’s forehead before he left and got in the car. He still was not sure what he wanted to say at all, but he felt there was a conversation that for better or worse needed to be had, that one way or the other he needed to see John tonight. 

He had to park several blocks away and on the walk to John’s building thought of what he might want to say when he got there. He only hoped whatever happened between him arriving at the flat and him leaving it that they were still friends. Childermass had never been to John’s flat before and did not know what to expect when he knocked on the door. 

A petite young woman answered, a woman with silvery hair to her shoulders. She wore a tank top that showed off heavily tattooed arms. 

“Is John here?” 

The young woman watched him and her hand moved to the doorframe. 

“He is,” she said. 

Inside the flat, another door opened and closed. 

“Flora? Is someone here? I thought I heard-” 

The young woman turned and stepped back, only a step, and he saw John enter the room. 

“Oh,” said John. “Hi.” 

“Hi. Are you busy?” 

“No. I’m not.” 

Flora stepped fully away from the door now, a small smile starting.

“I have things to do,” she said. She looked back forth between the two men. “I’ll leave for a bit and let you guys talk.” 

Childermass walked into the flat and Flora went into another room, a bedroom he saw, while he and John stood alone in the living room. The room was quiet and because he could think of nothing else to do at first, Childermass bent down and took off his shoes and put them with the others by the door. When he stood, John shifted nearly where he stood, but moved toward him a step. 

“Uh, have a seat. I can...I can make some tea? There’s...I’m sure there’s beer in the fridge.” 

“No, thanks,” said Childermass. 

Flora came back out then, her hair pulled up and shoes in her hand. 

“I’ll be back later.”

It only took Flora grabbing her purse and slipping on her shoes, only took her closing the door, and then they were alone. 

 

Segundus was in his room when he heard the knock at the door. He thought he heard his name and he thought he knew who said it. He stood up from the bed and opened the door. When he walked into the living room, John was in the door. 

Flora’s smile at him began to put him at ease, but as nervous as he was, he was happy to see John, happy at the unexpected surprise of John in his living room. 

It was no time at all before Flora left and then it was the two of them. 

John accepted his invitation to the couch and when they were alone, Segundus joined him. He did not smell like cigarettes. He hadn't since they'd come back from Wales.

“Wow,” Segundus said. “I didn’t think…” 

“Yeah. Sorry. It was pretty last minute. I hope it’s okay I came over.” 

“Of course.” 

Segundus let go the breath he held. John was here. He hadn’t really let himself think it, but it was what he wanted, at least a moment for the two of them to be by themselves. 

“How are you?” 

“Okay,” John said. “I just thought it might be good to talk. I’ve been thinking there were still some things I wanted to say. Things I haven’t gotten to.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

“Are you sure it's okay I came over?”

“It really is.” 

John wore a tee shirt and the tattoo Segundus had first noticed in the spring when spent the night on their couch poked out from under the sleeve. 

“I’ve missed you,” Segundus said. 

“Me too.” 

In the quiet and warmth of the room, it was easy then, easy to lean over and kiss John, to feel John’s beard against his cheeks again. 

John let him kiss him for a long time and Segundus felt his hand on the back of his neck. 

"Sorry," Segundus whispered when the kiss was over. His lips still touched John's. 

"Don't you dare." Lips brushed together again when he spoke, "be sorry." 

Segundus kissed him again and John pulled him closer, pulled him into his lap. 

"John?" he asked, when he breathed again. 

"Love?" 

It was all he wanted to hear.


	10. Families

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this story as it developed. I have had SO MUCH fun and the audience this has gathered is the best.

Hands on his chest. Lips moved from his mouth to his ear. His own hands, in their grasping, found John’s hair, and he ran his fingers through it.

“John,” Segundus said again. 

“Huh?”

“Does this mean-”

Segundus turned John’s head toward him with a kiss to the side of his mouth and pushed his lips apart with his tongue, with another kiss. He felt the happy sigh that followed, sighed against his own mouth, and then John kissed him back.

“Mean what?” John asked when they pulled apart. He had opened his eyes to look at Segundus. They sat that way, still and watching each other, and their breaths slowed a bit. “That we’re-”

“Back together?”

John's hands moved from his chest to his back, pulled him closer. 

“I would love that,” John said. His voice was so soft, one of the moments of gentleness Segundus had so much enjoyed finding with him. 

“Me too. 

“Good.”

John tugged at Segundus’ shirt. Segundus let his arms go loose and John slipped his shirt off them and over his head. John, who had seen Segundus bare chested before, Segundus remembered, still stopped after he had taken the shirt off; a pause to watch him. 

“You're not seeing anyone yet, are you?” 

“In two weeks?”

Segundus stopped talking when John leaned forward and started kissing his shoulder. John breathed him with heavy breaths in and Segundus’ back arched, moving his body closer toward the warm breath and lips. He wanted more of John. The bare skin of his chest pressed against John’s shirt, but he needed to feel more of him. He took John’s shirt off as well, left on the floor next to his. 

“We can’t do this out here,” Segundus said. 

“Okay.” 

He crawled out of John’s lap and stood. John sat, looking faintly dazed but happy and Segundus held out his hand. 

“My room?” 

“Okay. Sure.” 

 

He was surprised that John, in his own room in his own home, was not neat, or at least not very. The bed wasn't made and a towel hung over one post. There were a few socks scattered around, other dirty clothes. A project, half finished puppets made from socks and mittens, was spread out on the floor. John had a small desk and it was covered in piles of mail and other paper. John watched him take in the room and as he did, John began to fidget in a way that made Childermass grin. 

“It's a bit of a mess right now…” 

Childermass closed the door. 

“No, it's kind of cute. Very cute, actually. Reminds me a little of…”

“Of what?” 

“Well, of how Seb keeps his room, when I don’t have time to help him tidy it.”

“I hope that's endearing.”

“Yeah.”

A hand in his. Childermass followed John to the bed. He followed John when he sat down, though he did not bring his legs up and sit cross legged like John did. John had mismatched sheets; one blue, obviously washed many times, soft when he rested his hand against it. The top one was flowered, of silker material. 

Now that they were here, the pace did not seem so urgent, and John reached for his hand a second time, slid closer on the bed. 

“Hi,” John said. 

“Hi.” 

John kissed first, like he had when they were out on the couch, and he guided Childermass onto his back. Childermass closed his eyes again and at his torso, he felt the button of his trousers undone and John’s warm fingers on the skin of his stomach. John moved the trousers down his hips and then, suddenly they were not moved any more. Childermass kept his eyes closed. He could feel the warmth of John’s body against his and the slowing of John’s kissing. 

“This is what you wanted, isn't it?” John asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay, good.” John kissed him again, placed a palm against his bare hip. “Are you…” 

“John Segundus, I’m fine.” 

John laughed at that, a quiet laugh, and lay down on his side rested against Childermass. 

Everything he does, he does happily, Childermass thought. Their fingers laced together. 

I am happy to be here, Childermass thought, happy to be with him.

“I do fret, don’t I?”

“At least I know I’m in good hands.” 

Had John shaved this morning? Childermass thought his face was rougher against his shoulder, a bit more than he remembered. It was nice, different that he was used to. 

 

John was not a frail man, not really, but he felt fragile to Segundus. He always had. 

John’s heart was just there, under his cheek. It had such a nice beating. And when Segundus moved his hands or his lips it got faster. The pounding was almost like speech to him, sounded like it was timing out syllables in words that were dulled as they as they made their way to his ear. It was pleasant to hear how it changed as he kissed, as he moved, as held him tighter. 

And there was a hip pressed against his and then another as Segundus finished undressing him, and then, John was there, naked in his bed and looking up him. 

Two syllables beat against his palm. It was always he that blushed but now it was John who began to get pink in his cheeks. 

“I'm not much to look at,” he said.

“Oh, don't be silly.”

He had seen John before, not like this, but sometimes when parked John’s car in a quiet place for a few moments, there had been times when they had carefully moved toward this. There had been nights, summer still high, sweating and touching as buttons were undone and bodies touched. But this was all of John, for the first time; all of the lines where his clothes had sat during summer, making marks where the sun had been and where it hadn’t. It was the hardness of his wanting of him.

Some people might think John was rough, but all it took was a moment alone with him and anyone would know it wasn’t the case. 

“It’s...well, it’s been a while…And you know that I haven’t...” 

“I’m here,” Segundus said. “You can lie back. It’s okay. I’m going to make sure it’s nice. You just let me know, okay, when something is good.” 

John lay back again and Segundus finished undressing. 

 

There was not a hard line anywhere on John, not a place that wasn’t gentle in how looked or moved. 

“What is it?” John asked when he noticed how he watched him. He leaned over Childermass, propped on his elbows. At the bottom of the bed, their feet touched. Childermass had to touch him, to touch the soft places of him he’d just discovered.

Childermass responded to the question by raising a hand a running it along John’s back and buttocks. 

“Oh. That’s-” John inhaled and his body moved with the feeling of Childermass’ hand. 

I just like the feel of you, he thought. The bed was so warm now and when he looked up, the apples of John’s cheeks had gone red. John gave him a kiss on the forehead and pressed against him. 

“Lie back, if you want, John. I’ve got you.” 

Childermass could not hear him ask that and not, so he lay back in the bed, on the soft blue sheet, and John kissed down his stomach and then against his inner thighs as he held him at the hips. 

“I’ve got you,” John said again. 

It had been so long, so long since someone had touched him like this, so long since he had wanted in this way, as much as he wanted right now feeling John between his legs. 

“Just lie there,” John said. “Like that, now.” 

He was quiet when he spoke, his voice soothing. Childermass had never been treated quite like this before, with so much tenderness. He realized though that he needed it, just now, that he was glad of it. 

He was soon lost in the feeling of John’s mouth and its careful attention to him, to John’s tongue and his heat. 

 

John was his. John was his in a way the other men he had been with had not quite. John was his, all his; not nervous, exactly, but hesitant. John waited for him, John looked to him. 

He lay there underneath Segundus. His eyes had closed again and he was quiet, much quieter than any other lover Segundus had known. Segundus stopped and drew his mouth off John. 

“How are you?” 

John did not protest this time being checked on. He opened his eyes and nodded his head. 

“Yeah, love.” 

“Good. I’m just going to move you a little. And…” 

John’s head tilted back as Segundus moved his legs. 

“Okay?” 

John did not say anything, not real words, but he moved toward the feeling of his hands. 

The moments while Segundus readied them seemed long. He wanted to kiss John, wanted to know his body in this way. His own body strained, wanting John’s. And John opened his eyes from time to time at the feeling of him or at something he did, and Segundus met his eyes and and John was fine. 

“God, you’ve got me wanting this,” John said. 

John was ready and Segundus muttered to himself a little, mostly noises of pleasure that weren’t exactly words, when he began.

He started slowly, trying even as he lost himself to the feeling to gauge John's response to his movements, to him beginning in time to go faster, to enter him more. 

 

He hadn't thought about it in a long time, how his body worked with another, and he had never thought of it in this way. 

John had arranged their bodies for this. John had cursed under breath as he began, and it been, for Childermass exactly right even though he had so rarely heard John curse. It had sounded like a rough bit of praise for Childermass and for his body and for what happened here between them. It was John as a lover, loving him. John made love to him. His weight was not heavy on Childermass, but it felt different to him in a way that him feel that this was love with a man. 

John cleaned them and the bed after and when Childermass cried, just a little, John wiped his face with a corner of the sheet.

“I know,” John said. “I know. It's okay to be sad. I won't go anywhere.”

Childermass had never really thought he'd be here, having another first time. But he had and John was there and he knew.

 

John had fallen asleep. 

His head was on Segundus’ chest and he breathed evenly, steadily. 

“John. John.” 

“Oh.” John opened his eyes. It was a joy to watch John see him as he woke, to blink and yawn as the last of sleep was shaken off. “Hey, love. What time is it?”

“Almost nine. You weren’t asleep long. I hope it's okay I let you sleep. You looked tired and anyway, you felt really nice.”

“I felt nice?”

“Warm. And your beard, too. And I don’t know, I like someone sleeping against me.”

Segundus kissed him on the mouth, a long touching of lips, and sat up after a stretch. John put his hands behind his head. 

“I should go relieve Cynthia.”

“Yeah. You’ve got to get home to Seb.”

Segundus reached over the side of picked up John’s trousers and handed them to him. 

“Sorry, our shirts are still…” 

He motioned toward the living room. 

“Did your flatmate come home?” John asked. He zipped up his trousers 

“Yeah. I heard Flora and Emma earlier. Sorry. They probably saw the clothes.” 

“Don't worry. I think the one who answered the door sort of knew.”

John kissed him now, another kiss against the lips. They both smiled, lips still pressed again. 

“It's Sunday,” Segundus said, finally pulling away. John’s hand still rested on his thigh. “So, I guess I'll see you in the morning. Just a few hours.”

“You will.” 

“Let’s go out? This weekend? Have a talk, maybe.”

“I’d love that.” 

A last kiss, a long one. John walked across the room and he opened the door, Segundus covered himself with the blanket. 

“Hey,” he heard Flora say. “I don’t think we met, really. Flora. Here’s your shirt.” 

John laughed and closed the door and Segundus lay down in his bed, smiling. 

 

Home. 

Childermass parked his car and before he turned it off, saw that it was after 9:30. The light in the living room was on, but everything else was dark. So was the evening. A few weeks ago, it would have been light at this time, but the sun was set. 

When he came into the house, Cynthia was on the couch, working on her laptop.

“Hi. Sebastian fell asleep in your room again, John. Sorry. I think he got up after I put him to bed. I went to check on him and he’d moved.” 

Childermass reached into his pocket for his wallet and brought out the money for Cynthia. 

“No problem. Here. Is this enough? I’m back a bit late. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ve just been doing homework most of the night. Sebastian’s been asleep for ages.” 

“Good. Thanks again.” 

There were things he did each night; checking that the doors to the house were locked, putting a few things into Sebastian’s lunch box for the morning. 

When he went upstairs, his bedroom door was open. Sebastian lay in the middle of the bed, sprawled on his stomach, his arms and legs spread out. Just like his mum, thought Childermass. Jennifer his stuffed elephant was tucked under one arm. There was no question that he wouldn’t wake Sebastian to take him back to his room. It was early, but Childermass was tired and wanted to sleep. 

Childermass didn’t turn on the lights and after changing from his clothes he moved to a side bed where there was a little room. Sebastian did not wake. 

There were things he did each night; a last check of his alarm. But when Childermass got out his phone, there was a text from John. 

I love you. 

Childermass texted back the only thing he could. 

I love you too. 

 

The apartment had been noisy for hours. 

Emma’s mother had arrived early and taken her daughter to her house to get ready for the wedding. Flora’s father and aunt had come over soon after. Segundus lay in bed and listened to Dr Greysteel cook breakfast while his sister fussed over Flora. 

“Aunt Louisa!” Flora called from the bedroom. “I need your help with this curling iron, please.” 

Another voice.

“Lance! Lance, have you heard from the others? How is Emma? Oh, I think we might be running behind.” 

Phones rang. The flat began to smell of perfume and tea. Segundus’ phone chimed; several texts from Emma and then, one from John. 

Seb wants a slice of cake and a nice photo of the two of us. I’ve been proclaimed handsome in my suit. 

He smiled. Segundus showered and put on his own suit before going out into the living room. 

“Morning, John,” said Dr Greysteel. He sat at the table with a mug of tea and a plate of eggs, reading the news on his phone. 

“Morning. How are things?” 

“Very well, John. Very well. I’m not much use, really, but I did make breakfast. Would you like some eggs?” 

“No thanks, sir. Still vegan.” 

“Ah, of course. I'd forgotten. Tea, then?”

“I'd love some.”

Dr Greysteel waved toward the stove where the pan still sat. Segundus made a cup of tea and joined him at the table. 

“It’s a happy day,” said Dr Greysteel. They heard Flora and Aunt Greysteel in the bedroom, talking as they worked on Flora’s hair. 

“It is.” 

“Will your date meet us there? That nice man Flora says comes to see you? The one with the sweet little boy.” 

Segundus smiled again. 

“He will. I just heard from him. He says thank you again for the invitation. John is really looking forward to it.”

“Ah, good.” Dr Greysteel patted him on the arm. “What a happy day, John.” 

From the bedroom, Flora’s phone rang.

“Hey, Em,” she said. 

It was a happy day and it was all ahead of them.

 

It was the first night Childermass had ever left his son with someone else until the morning, the first time he had ever not slept in the house with Sebastian. 

Sebastian did not seem to mind. He and Cynthia had made a fort in the living room while Childermass dressed for the wedding and had already brought her laptop and pile of snacks in there though it was only mid morning. Before he left, Childermass poked his head in and the two were busy watching a movie and coloring. 

“Leaving now. I’ll see you this time tomorrow, Seb.” 

“Or lunch.”

Sebastian did not look up from his picture. The coloring book was something John had gotten him recently; one with pictures of animals and words in French. 

“Lunch?”

“Yeah. Have a lie in, Dad. You’re going to a party. You’re staying at a nice hotel. You never have a lie in.”

Cynthia shrugged. 

“Whatever you like, John. Just text. We’ll be fine. I don’t mind staying a few extra hours.” 

“Alright. Well, I'll see how things go tomorrow then. You guys have a good night.”

Sebastian crawled from the fort to kiss his father before he left and tell him again that he looked nice. 

“Say hi to Teacher John. Make sure he has fun.” 

“I will.” 

“And you have fun, too.”

Childermass left the house to the sound of his son laughing, and the noise of the movie on Cynthia’s computer. 

 

Segundus waited for John outside the courthouse and when his cab pulled up and John stepped out, Segundus could only watch happily. 

My boyfriend, he thought. 

He didn’t shave for today but I never really wanted him to. 

He has a bit more gray in his beard than he did just this spring, but it’s perfect. It’s perfect for him. 

He looks nice in a suit. 

“Well?” asked John. 

“Seb was right. Very handsome.”

“You too. Though I miss the apron.”

John leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Monday, John. Monday. You'll just have to wait until then.”

John held his arm as they walked into the building where the brides and their families waited.

 

It was nearly four in the morning when they arrived back to the room they’d gotten for the night. 

“Come on, John, to bed,” said Childermass. He reached for John’s tie and began to loosen the knot. 

“I’m not drunk,” John said. He buried his face in Childermass’ chest. “I only had two glasses of champagne.”

“I know, love. But you are tired. Very tired.” 

The hotel bed was large and the room cool from air conditioning. Childermass pulled back the sheets and quilt and Segundus lay down. Starting with his tie, Childermass undressed him and then hung the suit on a hanger. John, naked in the bed, shivered and Childermass pulled the covers over him. 

“Thanks,” said John. 

By the time Childermass had undressed and hung up his own suit, John was asleep. Childermass got into the bed next to him and John rolled over and took him into his arms. Childermass was soon asleep as well. 

 

Childermass woke first in the morning, only a few hours after he and John had fallen asleep. The sun wasn’t fully up yet and the room was only faintly light. John’s arms wrapped tightly around him still. No rush, he thought. He closed his eyes again and the next time he woke, it was too to a faint groan from John. 

“Oh God, I’m so tired.”

“Go back to sleep,then.” 

“It’s half ten. We need to get moving.” 

Childermass opened his eyes to see John sit up, scratching at his head. 

“Shall I run us a bath? We can freshen up before we go home.I still smell like bubbly wine and curry.”

“Lovely,” said Childermass. He picked up his phone and sent a quick text that he was still at the hotel and set it back down. “You do that.” 

He rolled over onto his side and stretched out his legs. He listened to John run the water in the bathroom and then, just as he was nearly asleep again, John put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Come on. Let’s get ready.” 

His eyes were still closed when John pulled him up from the bed and moved him toward the bathroom. 

“There you are.” 

The sound of the water splashing against the tub as John slid in. Echoes of each movement against the tiles. Childermass got in after him, nestled sleepily against his chest as the water and John began to warm him. 

Childermass lay in the tub rested against John, who had his arms wrapped around his stomach. John kissed his hair while Childermass sat in his lap mostly asleep with his head on John’s shoulder. 

“I’ll wash your hair, okay?”

“Mmmmm.”

His eyes still closed. Water on his head and neck and the tips of John’s fingers massaging his scalp. The hotel shampoo smelled like pears. A kiss on his ear. John’s wet body moved underneath him. Then, hands on his back and the slippery feeling of soap. 

When they were done, John ordered coffee to the room while they dressed in the clothes they packed. Childermass called home and told Sebastian he was on his way soon and put him on speaker so that John could hear him talk about all he and Cynthia had done the night before. 

“Was it a good party?” Sebastian asked.

“It was.”

“And the ladies are married?” 

“They are.” 

“Good. Come home, Dad. I want to see the pictures. I miss you.”

“I'll be there very soon. And I miss you, too.”

“We both do,” said John.

After a few cups of coffee each, it was time to go home. John had lunch with them and a nap on the couch. In the evening, he went back to his flat for the few hours until work and seeing them again. 

 

Sebastian Marvell-Childermass had turned six in March, but his family couldn't work out the holiday to celebrate all together until late June. The holiday, they decided, would celebrate Sebastian and John Segundus, who would have his own birthday the day after they arrived home. 

They, Sebastian and his father and his father’s boyfriend John, had decided to spend a week in France and a few days at Disneyland since it was what Sebastian really wanted to do for his birthday. 

It was just around seven in the evening when John Childermass carried Sebastian into their hotel room. He had fallen asleep on the train back to the city and couldn’t be woken for anything. John had carried him from the train to the cab and he carried him still. 

“He’ll be hungry if he sleeps through dinner,” said Segundus. 

“It’s okay this once. We’ll figure something out if he wakes up later.” 

John lay his son down on one the of the beds in the room in the room and slipped his shoes off. 

Segundus was sunburned from a day outdoors, his clothes sweaty. He wanted hot water to wash away the day and to feel John hold him for a while. He and John showered and then John rubbed aloe on his back and arms while they sat naked in the bathroom together.

“How did this happen? I wore sunblock.”

“We’ll put more on tomorrow so it doesn't get worse.”

“Seb has your complexion,” Segundus commented. John kissed his shoulder before putting a dab of aloe on. “Look how tan you two are after today.” 

“Hannah was just like you. I always had to be careful of her on a day out as well. Did you see your hair though? Shades lighter.”

They dressed and Sebastian slept. 

“Did you hear that couple today?” asked Segundus. They sat on the bed with the menu between them and Segundus ran his hands through his wet hair. “They thought Seb was French he spoke so well. They nearly fell over when he turned to us and started speaking English like a little Yorkshireman.” 

“That’s all you. They don’t understand a word I say.” 

The men named John ordered room service for themselves for dinner and sat watching television on the second bed. 

“I’m surprised they had a vegan option,” said Segundus. He sat with his back against John’s stomach. 

“You think I didn’t choose this hotel for a reason? You had to have someplace you could eat on this trip.”

John put the dishes outside the door and came back to bed. 

“You look tired, love.” 

“I am.” 

“Let’s lie down, have an early night, all of us. Wake up when Seb does and see what he wants to do.”

“Perfect,” Segundus yawned.

John turned onto his side and wrapped his arms around him and Segundus was surprised at quickly he fell asleep after he had while Segundus lay awake, watching the hotel room and listening to the sounds of John and Sebastian in sleep. 

They would leave day after tomorrow, go back to England and their routines, and to separate homes. 

Segundus had brought something with him, something that John had not seen him pack. It sat in a small box, waiting for the moment Segundus decided to bring it out and ask if John would marry him, if he could be Sebastian’s stepfather. The ring wasn't much of anything special, but it was what he could afford and he was proud of it. He knew he would never stop being grateful to Mr Honeyfoot for the raise he had gotten that allowed him to buy it. 

He hoped that when they went home, they went home as a family in this last way left for them to be a family, and knew, deep down, that they would.


	11. Surprise Halloween Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I missed these guys so I wrote a fluffy little Halloween thing. Seriously, it's all fluff guys.

John Childermass had still not become accustomed to how full his house was since he had gotten engaged in the spring and his fiance had moved into the house with him and Sebastian. 

 

It had been a long time since it was a house with three people, but it was more than that. There was a new energy to things, to each day. Just John’s presence and the happiness it brought made the house fill full to bursting. It was a new feeling an old one both. There were also John’s friends, now his friends as well, who came often to visit.

 

The fall day was sunny. Sebastian sat in a chair in the living room with a towel draped around his shoulders. Flora Greysteel stood behind him with a brush and on the couch, her wife Emma sat with a needle and thread, letting out the hem of a skirt that Sebastian would wear as part of his Halloween costume. Childermass had his work computer and sat next to her, watching Sebastian and Flora. Sebastian flinched as his hair was brushed out and he frowned in worry. 

 

“I don’t want to cut my hair,” said Sebastian. “Dad says I don’t have to cut my hair if I don’t want. John too.”

 

“I know,” said Flora. “I’m just going to style it a bit for your costume to see how you like it. Okay? I promise, no scissors.” 

 

Sebastian’s shoulders untensed a little and he looked over to his father, who nodded at him. 

 

“Okay. Cool.” 

 

Childermass relaxed as his son did, smiling a little up at Flora through his thick bangs.

 

“You men and your hair,” said Flora. She sprayed Sebastian’s hair with water from a bottle and continued to comb it. “John is fussy about his too.” 

 

Emma grinned around the sewing needle that she held between her lips. 

 

“Says the woman with a new hair color every three weeks.”

 

“I like Flora’s hair,” said Sebastian. “It’s really cool.” 

 

Flora laughed and patted Sebastian on the head. 

 

“Good lad. Now, let’s turn you into Matilda Wormwood.” 

 

Flora turned on the hairdryer and picked up a brush, turning Sebastian’s dark curls in it until they straightened and lay in a bob around his ears. Childermass was glad of Flora and Emma, glad of the two surrogate aunts Sebastian had gotten when John came into their family. 

 

Childermass went back to his work for a moment, reading an email Gilbert Norrell had sent him earlier in the day. The dryer hummed and so did Emma as she sewed and Flora smiled at her. John came in from the kitchen with mugs of tea that he handed to Childermass and Emma before sitting next to his fiance on the couch, legs curled up and an arm around him. John rested his chin on Childermass’ shoulder and watched Flora fix Sebastian’s hair. 

 

“Oh, very nice, Seb. You’re going to look great. You and your dad have such lovely hair.” 

 

“Skirt’s nearly done,” said Emma. “You can try it on when your hair’s ready, see how the whole thing looks.” 

 

From his seat, Sebastian grinned. He swiveled his face just a little to see Emma better. 

 

“Thanks Emma. Just wait till you see Dad as the Trunchbull. It’s going to be awesome.”

 

“Oh, are you shaving for once then?” asked Flora to Childermass. Childermass sipped at his tea. 

 

“I am. The things I do for my son…” 

 

John gave Childermass’ cheek an affectionate stroke. 

 

“I’m going to be in a bit of shock. Never seen you clean shaven before.” 

 

“Don’t get used to it, love.” 

 

“You guys are going to look very cute,” said Emma. She tied off a stitch and looked at her work. “Make sure to come to ours for candy.” 

 

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” said Segundus. 

 

Flora switched off her hairdryer and ran her fingers through Sebastian’s newly styled hair. 

 

“Done. Have a look at yourself, kiddo.” 

 

She handed Sebastian a small mirror and his mouth dropped open when he saw himself, his face surrounded by the glossy, dark bobbed hairstyle. 

 

“Oh my god.” 

 

“You like it?” 

 

When Sebastian smiled, he showed the three gaps in his smile from lost teeth. 

 

“I do! I really love it a lot. Thanks Flora. Hey Dad, John, did you see?”

 

“You look lovely,” said John. 

 

“Ditto,” said Childermass. “We should do your hair like that more often.” 

 

Sebastian jumped up from the chair and ran to Emma. 

 

“Can I try on my skirt?” he asked. 

 

Emma handed the skirt to him. 

 

“You’re good to go.” 

 

“Awesome!” 

 

Sebastian ran from the room and upstairs with his skirt clutched to his chest. 

 

“I love that kid,” said Flora. “You guys are doing a great job.”

 

Childermass rubbed John’s knee as John moved closer, blushing a little at the compliment. It was true, thought Childermass. John was a natural at being a father to their son and Sebastian was amazingly happy since John had moved in. 

 

“So John,” said Emma. She placed her needle back into her sewing kit. 

 

Both Johns turned to her. 

 

“I meant John S. When do we get to see your costume? I want to see what that skirt you borrowed from me looks like on you.” 

 

“I will debut my Miss Honey on Saturday.” 

 

“I look forward it.” 

 

Childermass grinned at John. 

 

“He tried on the skirt last night for me. He’s adorable.” 

 

“I'm sure he is,” said Emma. 

 

While they waited for Sebastian to come back downstairs, there was easy talk; work, the men’s wedding plans, the news of John moving forward with the paperwork for adopting Sebastian. 

 

Sebastian came back downstairs in his outfit, smiling and everyone clapped for him. On this early fall day, John Childermass was very happy.


End file.
